Tomorrow morning, we are off to the Scientist Parental Homeland. We will come bearing cheese, sausage, and representations of Surprisingly Popular Ugly State Mascot. I will attempt to not starve to death among the carnivores. With luck, I will not try to escape to my aunt's house before Christmas.
With equal luck, I will get some sleep. Although I am reliably informed that one's baby cannot kick too much, I begin to wonder.
May all of your holidays be filled with the tasty food items of your choice, and may all your relatives (including the by-marriage ones of whom one is tempted to say, "Well, she's no relation of mine!!") be pleasant company.
