(I love my ghetto Lost tree)
I finally had a break from the seventh circle of hell to ascend back up to the first circle... family time at Christmas. I have to say that I love my family, I really do, but sometimes they give the Griswolds a run for their money at Christmastime.
My dad, the fearless leader of the small trio that is our section of the vast Leonard family, does enjoy to get into the Christmas spirit. Unfortunately, he waits until Christmas Eve to really show it- before that he is one of the many disgruntled folks at the mall, except he takes it out on the other shoppers. There is a Dollar Store at the mall and that is always his first stop. He buys the longest thing of wrapping paper that he can find and pretends he's a Jedi, taking the Empire on one Stormtrooper... err, Christmas shopper at a time. After an exhausting day of wandering around the mall, then settling on calling me to find a "few extra things" for my mother, he is never in the mood to decorate the house. So most of it, including the Christmas tree is done on Christmas Eve.
Now, the backstory to the Leonard family Christmas tree is a rather long and drawn out one. Ever since I can remember, we have gotten a live tree. And ever since I can remember, I am terribly allergic. My parents think that I will build up a resistance to it every year, but I'm pretty sure for that resilience against the evil pine to stay in my system they would have to leave oh tannenbaum up in the living room all year round. This would be fine with my mom, who is one of those people who will watch any Christmas movie any time of the year. This year she decided that the Hallmark Movie Channel was the destination for her (last year it was Lifetime... I'm not sure which is worse). I suggested that she go to the store and read the actual cards, but I wasn't sure if they would give away spoilers in their one simple tagline. She seemed to take some offense to this and I once again wonder how a cinema major was spawned from this woman. Then my father makes a reference to a "Fringe event" at the dinner table and I am the only one that laughs and it makes so much more sense. It also made sense when my dad defended me for watching Criminal Minds on Christmas Eve when my mom said it wasn't in the Christmas spirit. Then after my mom yelled at me for watching a show about killers, my dad accidentally decapitated Jolly Ol' St. Nick himself. Mom was very angry.
For my mom, Christmas is one of the holiest times of the year so we go to church. I do enjoy the ceremony of the whole thing and it certainly looks pretty, but being solemn just ain't my thang. And sometimes things just happen that warrant a chuckle or two. Like last year at the Easter vigil mass when all is silent and the church is almost completely dark, with a few faces illuminated by the light of candles. Then out of the darkness, a small man appears and proceeds to the pulpit and begins the reading... in the style of Long Duk Dong from Sixteen Candles. My parents forgot to forewarn me that the visiting priest was Asian. So I might have let out a few guffaws and tried to cover it up with coughing, but it wasn't too embarrassing. This Christmas my mom wasn't taking any chances and demoted me to the children's mass on Christmas Eve. This didn't work though because it seemed to have brought out my inner child when the priest held up the Baby Jesus and I exclaimed "Simba!" My mom elbowed me, but this time I already had my reply of "But everything the light touches is his!" And now I think I got cemented as the "special" girl in church.
I have many more family Christmas stories, but I will leave you with an image of peace and goodwill towards men and proof that I will never get the ornaments my mother is holding hostage for grandchildren...
Merry Christmas! Shitter was full.
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