It gets easier every year, this “dealing with Christmas” thing. Not celebrating with my mom has become the new norm instead of a shock to the “holiday tradition” system. And then a funny thing happened: I realized that I was starting to look forward to it instead of feeling like my soul was being devoured by a flesh-eating bacteria otherwise known as the deadly and highly contagious Grinch virus.
Honestly, the only downside to the whole day was that I was hahahahungover. Dear god. I even took a NAP, and I never take naps!
Chooch seemed pretty content with everything he got and didn’t spend the next three days fixating on what he “didn’t” get, which is what he’s done in his spoiled past. Kids, am I right? In addition to an ass-load of Simpsons bullshit, we got him a Casio keyboard, a ukulele and a harmonica, so that’s going to be one hell of a one-Chooch band.
“And you said there wasn’t going to be anything good in my stocking!”
Chooch was really pleasant to be around all day, and that’s all I really want on Christmas if we’re real-talking, here. Just give me some fucking peace, kid, you know?
Marcy had fun eating Christmas Eve leftovers. Hey, the vet told us to give her what she wants and keep her happy. So, Merry Fucking Christmas, Marcy. Have some potato chip crumbs.
Later in the afternoon, Henry prepared some sandwiches and I dragged my post-drunk ass to the cemetery for our traditional Christmas picnic, which gets less picnic-y every year because hello, it’s DECEMBER and cold as fuccccck. I ate my sandwich with gloves on and enjoyed approximately none of it. I don’t even know what I was eating, to tell the truth. Which is what I do 100% of the time: TELL THE TRUTH.
Henry was particularly Christmassy. Jolly Old Saint Nick must have literally given Henry jollies in his stocking. Do I look tired? I was tired.
Later that evening, we stopped by my dad’s house so I could give him the snack bowl I made him.
Snack bowl. A bowl for snacks.
My dad’s house is like one giant snack pantry. I don’t understand how he’s not 800 pounds. Every time we go over, he’s all, “DO YOU WANT A SUGARY SODA FROM THE VINTAGE PEPSI MACHINE? DO YOU WANT SOME COW TAILS? HOW ABOUT SWEDISH FISH? NO?! SURELY YOU’LL WANT SOME PEANUT BUTTER-FILLED PRETZELS!” So it made sense to me to make him a snack bowl (dude, get an old glass bowl, spray paint and adhesive foam sheets and you’re done).
I filled it with all kinds of crap that he used to make me hide in my coat pockets and smuggle into the movie theater when I was a kid so that he wouldn’t have to pay the inflated prices at the concession stand, things like Mike and Ikes and Good and Plenty. He loves that bullshit. (But not Junior Mints, however; he gave those to Chooch.) We also stopped at the Mexican market down the street and I grabbed some weird ethnic snacks from there. He was super stoked about that. “DID YOU GET THIS AT THE PLACE IN BROOKLINE THAT HAS THE TACO STAND OUT FRONT?!” he exclaimed. Yes, yes we did.
Then I noticed that Duck Dynasty was on and he tried super hard to extol the merits of that piece of garbage “TV show” and I sat there and said things like, “Oh.” Because I wasn’t trying to start a fight on Christmas Day about radical homophobes and the people who make them “famous.”
I was sad that we missed my brothers. I think they would have enjoyed the inside scoop our dad regaled us with regarding the time he was in a Columbia Gas commercial back in 1984, and how it never aired because the Steelworkers accused Columbia Gas of making them lose their jobs because they switched to PLASTIC PIPES, whaaaaat. Drama drama.
After my dad’s, we stopped over Henry’s sister Kelly’s house and hung out with his side of the family, which is always nice, especially when a plate of artichoke dip is placed right in front of me. Then Henry’s niece Stephanie’s cat James bit Henry’s hand and scratched his back as Henry leapt up from his seat. IT WAS MY FAVORITE CHRISTMAS MOMENT!!
Chooch made a vase for Judy, and was going to write “To Judy” on the gift tag but I was like, “OMG, your grandma will go through the roof!” She overheard him call Henry by his name once and I thought she was going to have a stroke.
Henry was originally helping him with this and thank god I walked by and noticed that it said “Your” before anything was permanently glued into place.
I also made this vase for Janna. She didn’t cry when I gave it to her though, like Judy did when she got hers, haha. It was a Very Merry DIY Xmas I guess, which is what happens when you totally run out of time and money, which we do EVERY SINGLE YEAR.
But it’s the thought that counts, right? Hope you all had a Wonderful Whatever Holiday You Celebrate!