I guess even if I said I won the Pulitzer someday, they would respond by asking why I got home so late the night before, or why I didn’t answer their calls on my crappy excuse of a cellphone.
Oh, sure they would be proud and express it vividly.
For like, a day, perhaps.
Or three hours.
Or, ah what the hell.
I still love my family dearly, and I can say it in a completely honest, non-ironic way. Good thing there exists the fascinating paradox in which to love does not mean to always like or approve of. Very convenient.