Home from the holidays.

And thus ends another trip back east. No more washing the dishes before I put them in the dishwasher. No more making sure each and every of the 40 locks on the front, back, and basement doors are secure 847 times a day. No more listening to a 40 minute story that, in all actuality, takes 5 minutes to tell. No more watching the same damned channel on two different TVs in two adjacent rooms at FULL BLAST. No more praying for dear life that no one runs us over as we go 45 miles down the freeway. No more having to have the last word, no matter who's right or wrong ("OK, Dad, yeah I guess you can't skip to the next track on your CD player, don't know what I was thinking! I can't imagine what that wacky >> button is for!").

I miss them already.

But in order to fully detox, I need to watch my traditional Thanksgiving-and-Christmas movie now. I have never felt so much like Holly Hunter as I did this past week.