Boxing day is like coming down off cocaine.  There was all the talking, excitement, socializing, talking, dressing up, talking, manic energy, talking… of Christmas, and then suddenly.  CRASH!

There is something so empty feeling about opening up your last present.  Like you are staring in the mirror at the end of a long night of partying,  hating yourself, and knowing your sleep will not only be fitful – but torturous.  Sigh…  Then wishing you had the number of a dealer who would make a house call at 6 in the morning so you don’t have to face the void.

I could see it in the poor little Munch.  At the end of the day, after all had been opened, but still searching for one more bump of presents.

Munch: What about this bag Mamma? Who is this bag for?

Toni: That is just a bag of trash Munch.  It is all done.

Munch: Oh.  Are you sure.  Let me just look.

Just like someone licking the plastic baggie of drugs – hoping for one last lift.

I guess that is just the nature of a really amazing awesome time.  You are eventually going to come down, and have to deal with the fact that the high is over.