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Dad making a fuss about having to unwrap his christmas presents. The kind of roast lunch that going home's all about. Mum constantly apologizing for it not being wonderful, even though it's fine, just fine. My sister sneering at the wine being handed up to me, where I sit (like every other year) by the window, at the other end of the table. Dad becoming more talkative as the wine goes down. Mum standing on the front porch and waving as we drive off towards the railway station.
Everybody wants to escape their parents' little habits, but we pick them up anyway.
Now listening :
Special Treatment, by Gerry Hale's Uncle Bill.
Bow down to the exit sign, by David Holmes.
a mix CD that Chi gave me at his party the other night...