home is where the tamales are

So I’m home for Thanksgiving and honestly? This is exactly what I needed after the stress of midterms and clinicals.

home is where the tamales are

There’s something about walking into my parents’ house and smelling Abuela Rosa’s tamales that just makes everything else fade away. She’s been making them since like 5 AM because “they need time to be perfect, mija.”

Of course Diego is being his usual annoying self, trying to “help” by eating the filling before it goes into the masa. Carmen keeps talking about her new job at some corporate place in Charlotte - she’s so proud and honestly good for her, but does she have to mention her salary every five minutes?? Dad is currently on his third attempt to fix the string lights on the back porch because “they worked fine last year” (narrator: they did not work fine last year).

But you know what? This chaos is exactly what home should feel like. Plus Abuela Rosa just told Diego he’s getting too skinny and forced another tamale on him, so my day is officially made. Nothing like a little sibling schadenfreude to complete the holiday experience! Hope everyone else is having an amazing Thanksgiving with their own brand of beautiful family madness. ❤️