I hate November. November reminds me, being the third child of the family, that the birth celebrations of my two older sisters, Juliette and Victoria, are luring around the nearest corner and with it, so are the expectations of lavish gifts. They were born the 8th and 23td, which means basically the entirety of this month is waiting for one of them to get older, and then shoving turkey in our faces (not mine, as I am also the only vegetarian of said family) and remembering how fast this year left us all. The lamest thing ever about getting older is of course, the aging and being reminded that none of us are immune to it’s dasterdly prowls on our youth. So this year i’ve decided to get them nothing, kinda like I did last year, but different-ly, because this time I will tell them why:
“Ya’ll get nothing this year because you’re both on the worse side of your 20’s, and a gift would only serve as a reminder of that very fact…”
… I am indeed thoughtful. So raise a glass and forget all the shitty shit that happened to you in 2016!