Christmas
We're having Christmas in St. Louis this year, my mom and dad are coming up to celebrate with us. Christmas Eve we'll be at my house, Christmas Day we will be at my sister's. It's easier to spread toys from one end of the house to the other if you don't have to pack them in a car. I'm serving eggnog and I may cook something. I say "may."
Let me tell you about the last time Christmas was spent in St. Louis. My nephew had just been born and my sister was living in a shitty-ass apartment. Hubby and I were living in our first real house. We rented, but it wasn't a shitty-ass apartment, so we decided to host Christmas. I was looking forward to it. I baked, I decorated, I got a real tree and made the ornaments. Man, it was going to be great.
Mom and Dad came into town and we all got red pajamas on Christmas Eve. (It's an old tradition, we get new jammies the night before, then wear them to open gifts on Christmas day). I got up early and started the coffee, took out the carefully prepared breakfast items and turned on the stove. If I timed it just right, the food would be close to done by the time the family arrived. I have my little cup of coffee and I'm putting the biscuits in the oven...the cold oven.
My oven broke on Christmas morning.
No problem, there's still plenty of things we can make using the burners. Unfortunately, we didn't have much of it. Mom, Dad, Sis, and BButt arrive and we all laugh at the problem. Ha, ha, ha. "No matter," my mother says, "We'll just get straight to the presents."
Fine with me.
In my family we open presents one at a time so everyone can see what each other got/gave. I got the cutest pair of kitty-slippers, and it was even cuter when our cat attacked them in a fit of jealousy. Dad liked the coat we got him, BButt didn't scream and cry, things were going great. I thought we'd all relax for a while then see if we could find an open restaurant for lunch. It had snowed, maybe we could go outside and play with BButt for a while, I mean after all, this was his first Christmas. His first snow. We were all here, one big, happy family.
(Insert long, horrible record scratch here.)
The last present had barely been opened when my mom started putting on her coat and my dad started packing the car. Oh, didn't they tell me? They were all going to Kentucky to spend Christmas with Mamaw and Papaw. Thanks for the gifts, sorry about the stove, bye now! They left so quickly little pieces of wrapping paper were left floating in the air. Merry Fucking Family Christmas.
I threw away the uneaten food, cleaned my house, burned my tree, and vowed to never have Christmas in my home again. That was almost six years ago and things have changed since then, but the past can't be changed and some wounds go deep. I'll keep you posted.
Let me tell you about the last time Christmas was spent in St. Louis. My nephew had just been born and my sister was living in a shitty-ass apartment. Hubby and I were living in our first real house. We rented, but it wasn't a shitty-ass apartment, so we decided to host Christmas. I was looking forward to it. I baked, I decorated, I got a real tree and made the ornaments. Man, it was going to be great.
Mom and Dad came into town and we all got red pajamas on Christmas Eve. (It's an old tradition, we get new jammies the night before, then wear them to open gifts on Christmas day). I got up early and started the coffee, took out the carefully prepared breakfast items and turned on the stove. If I timed it just right, the food would be close to done by the time the family arrived. I have my little cup of coffee and I'm putting the biscuits in the oven...the cold oven.
My oven broke on Christmas morning.
No problem, there's still plenty of things we can make using the burners. Unfortunately, we didn't have much of it. Mom, Dad, Sis, and BButt arrive and we all laugh at the problem. Ha, ha, ha. "No matter," my mother says, "We'll just get straight to the presents."
Fine with me.
In my family we open presents one at a time so everyone can see what each other got/gave. I got the cutest pair of kitty-slippers, and it was even cuter when our cat attacked them in a fit of jealousy. Dad liked the coat we got him, BButt didn't scream and cry, things were going great. I thought we'd all relax for a while then see if we could find an open restaurant for lunch. It had snowed, maybe we could go outside and play with BButt for a while, I mean after all, this was his first Christmas. His first snow. We were all here, one big, happy family.
(Insert long, horrible record scratch here.)
The last present had barely been opened when my mom started putting on her coat and my dad started packing the car. Oh, didn't they tell me? They were all going to Kentucky to spend Christmas with Mamaw and Papaw. Thanks for the gifts, sorry about the stove, bye now! They left so quickly little pieces of wrapping paper were left floating in the air. Merry Fucking Family Christmas.
I threw away the uneaten food, cleaned my house, burned my tree, and vowed to never have Christmas in my home again. That was almost six years ago and things have changed since then, but the past can't be changed and some wounds go deep. I'll keep you posted.
posted by Barbarian02003 | Tuesday, November 29, 2005
2 Comments:
Thanks, I think so. My family and I have come a loooooong way in the last six years.
Geeez... You guys must have a lot of red jammies.
I hoipe you can give it another chance; as well, I hope it goes better. Just be sure to check w/ your peeps if they have other plans so its not a suprise.
Of course, parents always have to be difficult and there will just be something else anyway.
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