I’m not talking about my family, of course, since most of them will read this book. I’m talking about yours. I’m just trying to feel your pain. Families are loud. Families invade your personal space. Families tell you that you’ve put on weight since they last saw you. Families smell like pretzels. Families eat the last piece of leftover pie, the one you hid under a paper plate in the fridge. Families think it’s cute when their kid beats up your kid. “Ah, he gave him a bloody nose. So cute. Well, you know, boys will be boys.”
