I Wish I Had a River I Could Skate Away On

And then there is Mom’s annual pilgrimage north. Across the colonies to blow in like a hurricane for the holidays. If you pay attention you can tell she’s coming. Animals start running. Birds take flight. There is a stillness as the world braces itself for the event.

Last year I didn’t see her. An ill-fated phone call, a couple of nasty voicemails, and then a poison pen letter from me cast the deciding vote on whether or not Estelle would be making an appearance at my house. She had waivered at one point, then a dusting of snow caused her to panic and bail out early. But not before having two huge fights with her two BFFs – the primary friend and the run-off vote friend. When she fought with the one, she picked the second string to keep her company. And when that went south (probably over a difference in voting history or something else she finds terribly important) she found herself having to make an excuse to leave town at the crack of dawn on Christmas Day. Never saw my kids.

But this year, since we’ve called a truce, (not to be confused with signing a peace treaty, it is just a truce), she is planning on seeing the whole family.

And we are all refilling our anti-anxiety medications from last year.

Since the primary friend remains on the lam from Mom, Mom has been in touch with the run off friend to scrounge up a potential place to stay. This is a friend who famously gave her a gift one year that included a pillar candle that unfortunately, an not unnoticed by Mom, had been burned. Flagrant gift giving foul. Flags all over the playing field. But there is lodging at stake so she's conveniently forgiven that for now.

But this friend has had some issues and though she's been a little reticent to tell Mom all the presumably gory details, Mom has deduced from 5 states away that Run Off Friend has had a colostomy. And since Mom is here to celebrate the holidays, and isn't the "Here, let-me-take-care-of-you-while-you-are-down-on-your-luck" type, she's not jazzed about staying with her and her "pain-in-the-ass" husband. Come on now, she has a lifting restriction! Mom is sure the house isn't even decorated! And what fun are you if you can't even carry a tray of blender drinks from the kitchen for your guests?

Anyway, to get to the point, Charlotte has heard the rant and in some moment of weakness, or an attempt to secure a Get Out of Hell Free Card, has invited Estelle and her very own pain-in-the-ass Bill to stay with her and Jack and their boys for the few days they are here.

So, forget the Peace On Earth. Any notion of that will be shattered to smithereens the moment Estelle crosses the threshold.

I hope Charlotte has been to the liquor store. She's going to need a jumbo cocktail as they pull into the driveway for a long winter's night.