Going home isn't for winps
  1. Dog shit. Right as I open the car door. Dog shit all over a towel sitting at my feet in the driveway.
  2. The current events of my hometown/family. No less than 3 stories must be immediately shared by my mother about current deaths, hospital visits, tragedies, and/or disappointing news about townspeople or individuals who will be coming over for Christmas Eve dinner.
  3. A loud incessant chopping sound from the kitchen and a slew of curse words every time my father makes a cooking error.
  4. A lecture about paying my bills on time.
  5. A scolding because I didn't tell the dog hello.
  6. A handful of cutlery to shine and place out on respective tables once I'm finished.
  7. A handful of Tylenol (pm) from my purse. It's all I had and it will have to do. You can combine this with wine, right?