Christmas in my Family (757 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.5 on 8 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by <ejryuu.at.gmail.com> (View user info) at 2005-12-13 15:01:35 EST
The holiday season is a special time for most families and mine is no different. Special indeed. And there was no greater holiday full of tradition than Christmas.
First thing's first - tree me up, bitch! My family would always get a real tree. For the majority of my childhood, we'd drive a few miles into town and pick out an evergreen from a small selection cut down by a local tree farm or a gas station. From the time I was roughly fifteen onward, my father took it a step further and actually went out to the same tree farm with my younger brother, mother and myself to hack down our own tree. Regardless of where we picked up this Christmas icon, the result was the same.
Shaking, cold in our garage. Body fully intermingled with tree, frozen emerald needles stabbing any exposed skin. Hands and jacket caked with sap. Welcome to Christmas. My tiny arms allegedly helped to hold the tree steady while my dad took a saw to the trunk in an attempt to get it somewhat level enough to put in the stand. For some reason, the first cut would leave the trunk at a horribly oblique angle. Always. Lots of swearing and recutting. By the time the tree finally fit the stand and could stay erect for more than thirty seconds, it was time to bring it inside. Heaving and wobbling, guiding the tree the short distance from the door to the far end of the living room was always a challenge. Each clumsy step made the tree shiver, coughing off another excess coat of needles all over the floor. More swearing ensued and it was time to lift up the tree. Steady. Steady. STEADY JESUS WATCH IT! The final graceful lift would brush the top of the tree against the ceiling as if it were a paintbrush, always leaving a graceful streak of green that would eventually fade over the course of the year, but never be completely gone. For the next forty-five minutes, the kids would vacuum, sweep or just use hands to pick up all of the needles that we could find.
Decorating the tree, although just as time consuming, was a much less arduous task. Standard lights, never really tangled, went up swiftly. Ornaments were a different story. Box after box of ornaments, many with significance were given to each child one ornament at a time to be placed on the tree. It was of the utmost importance to spread these around. Otherwise the Christmas tree would look goofy. You can't have Kermit the Frog on skis being too close to the cloth horseheads or any of the "Baby's First Christmas" ornaments. It's a scientific fact. When the decorating was done, we'd turn off the rest of the lights in the house and gaze in awe at the tree we'd just destroyed. For a moment, all of the yelling and struggling would take a backseat to a long, comfortable silence.
My mom would always get stressed out during Christmas and go on a baking spree. She didn't cook all that much during the year so whenever she did anything in the kitchen, it was kind of a big deal. Every year, she'd make too many cookies. Some of the classic favorites like candy cane cookies, shortbread cookies, pecan fingers and some other weird stuff. Varieties were picked up and dropped throughout the years. She'd put them in tins and Tupperware and then ration them out for awhile. About halfway through the supply, the novelty of having so many sweets would wear off and it'd be a free for all, just because allowing cookies to go bad is a mortal sin.
Christmas morning, my parents would wake us up at the crack of dawn. We'd line up in the hallway leading out to the living room, oldest to youngest. My mother would turn on the stereo to whatever new deranged Christmas album she'd found. Sometimes it was A Cow Christmas. Sometimes it was Looney Toons. It was always messed up, I promise you. Hearing Daffy Duck bitch about Christmas made me want to go back to sleep. Screw the presents, keep 'em. This isn't worth it. One kid at random was chosen for the morning to be the present gopher. This entailed digging through packages to find presents for everyone. Once every family member had a present on his or her lap, we'd go around the room and open them one at a time. Any readers out there a fan of meticulously opening presents so as not to ruin the pretty paper? You're a big reason for so many of my mental issues. One at a time, taking hours to go around. What a magical journey for everyone!
Another Christmas tradition was "celebrated" by my relatives - Uncle Ray and Aunt Pat. As much as I love these folks to death, they weren't the best shoppers. Especially not for boys growing up. Every single year, Uncle Ray and Aunt Pat would wisely pick out clothes for my three brothers and me. The same clothes. If we were lucky, it was different sizes. And it was never "good" clothes. It was the buy-one-get-three-free rack. And you had to, HAD TO wear them the next time you saw them.
It was law in our household that my dad had to flip out on someone at least once on Christmas Day. It just wasn't Christmas without dad punching a hole in a door. One time it was because we were out of milk for cereal in the morning and he was pissed that not everyone agreed to diluting a quarter cup of milk with half a cup of water to go along with their Captain Crunch.
Another time it was because I put down a certain game on my Christmas list (NBA Live 97). I opened up my first SNES looking package from another uncle and found it to be Mechwarrior 3050 or something terrible. I didn't cry, though. No sir. I sucked it up, chalked it up as a loss and watched other people open their gifts. Near the last "round" of opening gifts, the shiny silver package from my grandparents strangely resembled something that might be good. Much to my chagrin, it contained that year's holy grail - my game. I leapt up and down screaming "YES!" in my prepubescent voice. My dad's logic was "How come you weren't that excited over the other one? What would you have done if your uncle was here? How do you think he'd feel? You should be grateful that....(at this point I tuned him out and saw his face was getting red)"
"But dad...he's not here. Neither are grandma and grandpa...."
Then he yelled some more and punched a hole in a door and my mom was crying because another glorious Christmas went down the tube.
I rented a videogame a week before baby Jesus' birthday and was near completing it, citing that it was too easy. My parents took it away from me. I ruined Christmas that year because my parents had bought that game for me.
It was always something in my family. Either someone wasn't sharing their new toys or someone else wasn't helping to do the dishes after the meal or wasn't as happy with the potato in their stocking as they were with the legos they got.
But you know what? If I had the chance to change any of the dysfunction and have a happy, picturesque Christmas, I wouldn't. This year will be the first in nearly half a decade that I get to spend with my folks. Looking forward to it~
User Reviews
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2005-12-14 10:50:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
It's a tit bit nipply out there.
Submitted by celine (user info) at 2005-12-14 05:09:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm one of those kids that never appreciated the Legos I got when I got them, and now I swear by Legos as the crucial 'building blocks' of a child's life.
Submitted by c1ndy (user info) at 2005-12-13 15:44:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
great
Submitted by Trevor1st93 (user info) at 2005-12-13 15:33:00 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
We only have to wait until everyone gets up than we all go crazy, have a Merry Christmas!
Submitted by GodLovesALittleLovin (user info) at 2005-12-13 15:18:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Sounds like my family, except we had more wall-punching and no cookies :(
Submitted by MistressFist (user info) at 2005-12-13 15:12:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by Pentameter (user info) at 2005-12-13 15:10:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Sentimental things always pull at my heartstrings.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-12-13 15:05:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
you'll shoot your eye out, kid