So every Christmas season brings more stories than gifts. You know its true. I mean, it might not be true for you, but it definitely is true for me. It would be irritating if everything was normal because I don't do normal.
Alright. I'll open with the honest truth. I watched Home Alone 2 on Christmas Day and when it got to the end, I cried. I'm not ashamed to say it. I cried. There Kevin stands, in Rockefeller Center, the tree behind him, the lit angels all around and that music begins. You know the music. The Home Alone music that is so wonderful. I've decided that if my life had a soundtrack, I would want that song played at the ending and over the credits. Of course, my opening song would be the opening song from Forrest Gump.
I have cousins. Plenty of them and they are all pretty cool. Well, some are older than others and the younger ones are, how should I say, not as learned as we who have been around for more than two decades. So my father is teaching the six year old how to do math. Well, he's young and he still uses his fingers to count it out (don't act like you don't still do that too) and my dad was messing with him by saying this: "What are you going to do when they chop your hands off?" Right. I'll say it again. "What are you going to do when they chop your hands off?" To which my cousin makes fists with his hands and starts shouting, "My fingers are gone! My fingers are gone!" It wasn't soon after that outburst that my brother opened his gift, a book by Obama (he's a history buff and reads political things a lot), to which the same cousin says in utter terror, "You like Barack Obama?!" Welcome to Texas.
There was the unveiling of the first grandchild who got a tattoo, there was the "BOSTON RED SOX" lit up on the roof of a neighboring home which I found to be particularly festive...
You know, I don't care what you celebrate. I don't care at all. I find Kwanzaa to be a little strange and not really real, but whatever. But come on. Boston Red Sox? It's Christmas for God's sake and they aren't even playing! Put those lights on your roof during the summer when they are actually playing, not now! Contrary to what Red Sox fans might believe, God doesn't really care about a baseball team and the world does not revolve around the Red Sox.
Catheder was brought up twice within about an hour. Oh? Too soon to jump back into the Christmas stories? Right. Well it was. Twice. I don't know how you bring that up at the Christmas dinner table at all, much less bringing it up again during gifts, but that's how we roll. We clap, we cheer, we give snaps, we videotape the long orations of a father that needs to learn that not everything needs a pause for emphasis, we have fashion shows in which we cheer, we peer pressure the family into trying on sweaters, we listen to long stories that don't ever really have an ending but everyone laughs anyways, we watch A Christmas Story ten times, we are pleasantly surprised and we have a great time.
My favorite though is when the young cousins start talking fast and I tell them to insert commas into their speech so we can understand them. "We have cake comma truffles comma and three kinds of pies comma (should be a semicolon but whatever, she's small) pumpkin comma coconut comma and pecan."