I have to confess, I’m a hugger. I’m from a huge family of huggers, all proudly carrying an “A” rating from the American Institute of Hugology. We all walk in the door, holding out our arms and saying, “Can I get a hug?” They are always administered with an ample amount of glee.
Hugs all around. If we missed hugging a loved one when they were walking in the door, we make sure to get that hug in before they go walking out of it.
Everyone, boys, girls, grown ass men and women, close and distant relatives, friends, friends of friends, the family dog, that chocolate cheesecake, the bottle of Henny... Everything is in the Mass Hugging Zone during the holidays. It’s a big old hugging love in.
It’s going to happen some more this Christmas, hello hugs and goodbye hugs and hug-hugs.
So, you party poopers, y’all can have my hugs only if you take them away from my cold, dead hands. Or just say, “Can I have a hug?”
Either way in our family, it’s Huggin’ Time!
Hugz iz luv. 
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