Every year during the holiday season we go to my aunt and uncle's Feed Store for a brouhaha/hoedown/general gettin' jiggy wid it. This year, Dear Seester and I decided we were going to perform a little ditty that some of you may have heard of entitled "Merry Christmas from the Family." It goes a little something like this:
"Mom got drunk and dad got drunk/At our Christmas party/We were drinking champagne punch and homemade eggnog/My little sister brought her new boyfriend/He was a Mexican/We didn't know what to think of him till he sang "Feliz Navidad"/That means Merry Christmas in Español./That's what it means. Sure does."
Unfortunately, the stars didn't align in our favor and we were forced to cancel.
For our family Christmas we usually do Secret Santa. I always accidentally type Secrete, so I took to calling it Secretion Santa. Great story, Kali. Tell it again. Anyway, this year we changed pace by playing Dirty Santa. This was taken one of three ways by all involved: 1. Clean out your drawers and slap a bow one something you find therein; 2. Bring a gag gift; or 3. Bring a dirty gift. This was probably the best Christmas we'd ever had, partly because my grandma almost ended up getting a gift card to Victoria's Secret(e), and partly because all us kids are (almost) old enough to drink and be merry.
Christmas Day itself was quiet and chill at my house, just the way we like it. We all got just a handful of good presents thanks to Ye Olde Economic Crisis, but we had a fantastic day regardless. I got a calendar (a staple every Christmas), a darling pair of earrings from Costa Rica, a wide angle and a zoom lens for my beloved camera, and a nail buffer made of silk that makes your fingernails all shiny.
Of course, Dear Seestur and I made our Annual Christmas Trip to Goodwill to buy ugly sweaters for our Annual Ugly Sweater Partay. The background music in Goodwill was a techno rendition of Pachelbel's Canon with an overlay of the "Twas the Night Before Christmas" story. Bizarre. A woman stopped me right as I was leaving the dressing room and asked if I had just tried on that sweater (pointing).
"Why, yes."
"I have that same sweater!"
".....Oh.......really?" (incredulous)
She proceeded to tell me that she was a second grade schoolteacher (not just a regular teacher, mind you, a schoolteacher) and that her mom and grandmother bought the sweater for her and she just thought it was the cyoootest thing with the crayon buttons and the children with pigtails made of real dangling yarn strands.
Wow.
Anyway, just wanted to wish you all a happy holiday season. If you're around these parts tomorrow, put on an ugly sweater and come to our party. It's gonna get ugly.
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