Prognosis for Peaceful Meals

My sister can be described as an equal rights advocate - her ideals fashioned after her education in the country's top state university. A liberal college hippie so to speak. My dad on the other hand portrays the role of right-wing extremist Bill O'Reilly - ideals wrought by his conservative interpretation of the Bible compounded by extensive historical and political reading, away from society sparked by his poor social skills at large.

Weekly lunch dates can be a drudgery with the two heavily consumed in antagonistic political commentary seemingly interminable  and I play the role of an automaton bobbing my head in a fast motion at my desire to speed up the speeches respectively, and to, despite my love for Article III Section 4 of the Philippine constitution, direly enjoy my meal and get by another lunch date in one piece if not in peace in spite of my dysfunctional family.

Sometimes crying abounds after an arbitrary exchange of words delivered in raised voices and irate facial expressions. My prognosis? Eat humble pie to pour oil on troubled waters because being family is being stuck with each other until the day you rest on your deathbed.