“Hey Jo, you ever been to Bada Bing’s?” my father asked me. I haven’t, so we piled into a little white Prius and started to wind our way through the dark country roads of Bluffton to make our way to some Italian food.

“There’s a little baby deer that we sometimes see on the road over here,” Papa says as he points to the right.
“No, I see him over there,” my sister contradicts, pointing her finger to the left. Their arms are crossing in front of each other’s faces as they point in opposite directions and insist upon the accurate location of the fawn. This goes on for some time. Finally, my sister ends the discussion with an extra forceful point to the left and states, “Last night I saw him over there.”

“Really?” my father says, sounding baffled.
“Yes!” my sister insists.
“Well I told him not to cross the road, it’s dangerous!” Papa booms.

I’m in town for Christmas, and so far we’ve played Scrabble, watched old movies, eaten far too much food, and had senseless arguments just for the sake of arguing. And I haven’t even been here 24 hours, yet.

Even though this is my first Christmas in South Carolina, it still feels just like home.

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