So I finally opened that envelope of photos that my parents sent me a while ago. The reason? Well, they sent another envelope chock full o' photos of my brother's wedding. I think they may have sent a whole damn roll this time! So I got this thick thing in the mail with my address written in what is probably my mother's handwriting, something I probably haven't seen in a decade, and was too intriqued not to open it. So once that envelope of worms was opened, I figured I might as well open the first one, which had only three photos, some of which were dupes.

We're not a close family. We're cordial, but displays of affection are uncomfortable. I could have done without the photos of my brother kissing his wife. That's just how it is.