It is not irrational that the holidays bring out the worst in people. You are suddenly surrounded by objects and people who seem at first different in unsettling ways, and, upon day after day of rigorous reacquainting, prove to still be in that headspace or retain that chipped edge that you now begrudgingly remember to have always been there. Thus, although we love the family that we draw on and are drawn to, when we return to them we do not bring our best. Instead we display to them the intensity of our mounting resentment, and our inability to stomach the spiked eggnog that Grandma thought we would enjoy. In return they generously reveal to us their disappointment and their remorse and their new labrador.