Last night I opened cards from my customers. They were full of flattering praise for the service they get from me; along the lines of, "Man, we sure get some customer service from you sometimes it seems like you're on our porch forever. Dude, maybe you should give some customer service to somebody else and let us shut our door."
Today we had a traditional Christmas. Our tradition is to be disappointed that we're not some other family that knows how to pick out gifts that people want, and to hide our disappointment if we don't get what we want, or talk to each other over dinner, or remember to buy milk. We finished up with a virtual monastic silence broken only by percussive stylings of door slams.