For this lovely Yuletide season, my dear cousin (I say this unironically. We get along great) gave my aunt a gift that truly embodied the Meaning of Christmas. It was the gift of piety. After a nine-year hiatus, he would voluntarily go to Confession and he would enthusiastically drag his ass to Midnight Mass with the rest of the family. My aunt, being a Tong, and thus, Really Damn Catholic, was ecstatic. My mother and her other sisters responded to this news with the barest glints of tears in their eyes.
My first thought was, “Who did he murder now?”
And then wondered when I became such a blackhearted cynic.
