Certain family traditions do survive however. We happen to be of Polish decent. There's a sliced fresh cooked kilbasa sitting on the counter right now. It's the good kind, from the butcher - not the market. That means among other things that it has garlic and doesn't taste like sawdust. There's also fresh ground horse radish next to it.
... you don't have to kiss me until after I brush.
... ... or, better still, I'll willingly share the goodness.