A week from today is Thanksgiving. In terms of family love, respect, honor and values, it is the most dangerous time of year. Yes, including Christmas.
Clan gatherings are always risky. Old, festering wounds reopen. Grudges resurface. Worse is the moron who doesn’t realize that the family pecking order has changed.
The kitchen looked like a grenade had gone off in it. Food, dishes and hanks of hair were everywhere. All three husbands and the kids cowered in the backyard.
He went to jail, and I went to the emergency room with a dislocated finger.