When we were little, we used to get up very early to open presents on Christmas day. The tree was this hideous thing that looked like we’d stolen it from a car wash, but early on Christmas morning, with the lights twinkling and the music playing and the presents all under it, it was the most beautiful thing.
We never had a fireplace, so our stockings were all stuffed to the brim and spilling out all over the couch. We always had M&Ms and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Usually, there was a toothbrush and some crayons. We all went through our stockings at once.
But when we opened our presents, we all had to open them one at a time, each person taking their turn while everyone else looked on.
Then we’d usually have breakfast, pack up and drive to Battle Creek to my grandma’s, where we’d have Christmas all over again.
My grandma would always have this fabulous spread ready for for us when we got there: homemade beef and noodles, mashed potatoes, green beans, rolls… hmm. I can’t remember if we had anything that wasn’t a starch, but it was all really good.
Then, we’d spend New Year’s Eve with the other Reverend and his family. Almost always, this involved eating a lot of M&Ms, watching Indiana Jones movies and playing with the other Reverend’s sons, while our parents played almost violent games of euchre (How do you spell that?) and squeak.
On New Year’s Day, there’d inevitably be an ice storm, but we’d drive home anyway.
Today, we’re waiting for our parents to get here while our annual pot of Christmas chili simmers on the stove. That’s a tradition I started when we got Mrs. Wigglebottom.
Now, if only I can get the Butcher to set up a tree, we’ll have a right fine Christmas afternoon.
Tiny Cat Pants 