holiday breaks: the thompson way

malloryreidMerry Christmas!  I’m home for a few days celebrating my favorite holiday with my family.  I hope you are having a splendid, cozy holiday with your loved ones as well!

One of my favorite things about being home in Pensacola is the chance to hang out with my younger brother Reid.  He’s 7 years younger than me and we’ve been extremely close forever.  So close, in fact, that he sleeps on a trundle bed in my room when I’m home.  (Not normal, I know.)

Allow me now to paint a portrait of what a typical visit at home with my younger brother looks like (this post will coincidentally serve as an explanation for why I’m single).

First of all, we spend most of our time in “the lair,” aka my bedroom.  We take snacks with us to the lair every night and lock ourselves inside, only emerging when we can no longer put off a need to go to the bathroom.  Bear in mind that these aren’t just any snacks…we go to Tom Thumb every single night.  We buy candy bars, Icees, etc.  These are the treats worthy of the lair.

We then watch Gossip Girl or Aquamarine (seriously, we’ve probably watched this movie 100 times) on a laptop until one of us accuses the other of falling asleep and we turn on the television.

These are just our nighttime activities, though.  During the day, we have other pastimes, such as shopping at Target, perusing Barnes and Noble or getting beverages from fast food restaurants.

Clearly, we’re the pictures of health and fitness.  And fiscal responsibility.  (Side note: Reid has single-handedly milked me for probably $500 of food and drink in the last five years.  It’s alarming and impressive.)

The thing is, I’m actually happiest spending my Christmas break drinking Coke and fighting over chocolate-covered pretzels with my younger brother.  I guess these aren’t the standard nighttime activities of a 22-year-old, but then what about me is standard?

With that, I’m being summoned to the lair for a quick Netflix binge before lunch.  So, until I leave on Friday, if you need me, I’ll be there (or at Tom Thumb).  Merry Christmas!

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