“They say that blood is thicker than water. Maybe that's why we battle our own with more energy than we would ever expend on strangers.”

- David Assael

It seems like this year is just flying by. Already it's mid-November and that means that you'll have to enjoy this weekend for all its worth, because in just four short days that feeling of relaxation will be melting faster than a snow cone in July.

In a mere 96 hours we'll all be sitting around a table of some sort preparing to give thanks. And what will I be thankful for this year? Well, I'd be happy if the meal ends with a quaint dessert; and not a quick desertion.

You see, there are really only two events that families get together for nowadays: funerals and holidays. And, as such, both come fully loaded with two key accessories: food and grief.

The only upside to the funeral is that one of your numbers won't have to put up with the hassles anymore. In my opinion they're getting off lucky.

Please forgive me, I don't really mean to be so negative at the onset of this holiday season, but let's face it, we all get a bit cranky each year because, while we may hope for a Norman Rockwell photo feast, what we end up with is more like a painting by Picasso. You ever heard someone say “don't cry over spilt milk?”

Well that would be nothing compared to some of the food stuffs I've seen thrown over the years. Who would have known that gravy could have such good hang time? And if you get the right olive on your fingertip then it's just a waiting game till it's soaring like a dove at the Olympics. Maybe this year will be different but I'll keep a ration of peas on hand just in case.

And there is no reason to throw a pity party my way because while I'll admit, my family is nuttier than a squirrel's pantry, then again, so is yours.

If there is one thing that binds us as a people it's the fact that none of us can last an entire day with our families without losing our minds.

To spend more than 10 minutes with the Molloys you'd have to have the patience of a saint, which brings me to Mother Teresa.

She spent 40 years among the lepers of Calcutta. Try to tell me holiday “get-togethers” had nothing to do with influencing that decision! Heck, I'd be on the first boat to India myself if it meant not having to pass the yams anymore.

Now don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't like my family, it's just when we all get in one room at the same time it gives me the same feeling that a soldier gets when forced to walk through a mine field.

You can tip toe around subjects all you want but inevitably there's going to be a blow out, you just don't know when.

But, unlike that soldier, I won't be going home with any medals, just leftovers.

Auburn native Bradley Molloy's column appears here, each

Sunday, in The citizen.

He can be reached at lovonian@hotmail.com