The house is cleared of guests. The linens are piled, the dishes are washed, the half empty bottles of cranberry juice have been dumped. All went well. Outside of a few slips (forgivable because they were made on the front porch after eleven), I got through without offending my sister-in-law's religious sensibilities, so we'll call that a near success.
But she was lucky to get out when she did, as I think our bottled irreverence was beginning to leak. After dropping her off we spent the rest of the afternoon letting it all out, restocking the cupboards and shelves with blaspemy. Whispering "goddammits" into the corners.
And got some quiet time in.
A passing remark made by The Boy: "Constantine AND The Gospel According to Jesus Christ? Wow. It really is Sunday."
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