How Not to Christmas Part I

How Not to Christmas

As I sit here regretting too many Christmas Cookies-

Excuse me. That sounded like an eating disorder. What I mean is in the cookies was high fructose corn syrup, a chemical made to replace sugar that has some not so great effects.

For the most part I have avoided it quite well.

I didn't realize it was in the home made cookies I devoured. Thus my digestive track is having a field day.

Anyway I...had time to reflect on Christmases past. And why so many of my memories are bitter sweet.

When I was really young it was nice. A Christmas Tree with a train under it. Giant 100 Acre wood Denizens shoved in the tree for me to find Christmas morning.

The change was gradual. After my mother's first accident, her mobility was limited by a back injury. Cleaning up the house became difficult. I was a dumb child. Dad was difficult with a 1950's sense of entitlement.

I remember three major components that made me resent the holiday.

1. The growing amount of mess and clutter all year long and Dad being shocked elves didn't magically clean up the living room after Thanksgiving. Thus he had to rearrange to get his titan christmas trees, and when we began to not be able to set up the train it became unbearable. Dad was very dramatic to the point Hamlet would tell him to tone it down.

2. Christmas Eve Dinner. My father's mother died when he was seventeen. My father's father, god rest his soul, remarried a woman fit for a grimm fairy tale. If she could have left my father in the forest to be eaten by an evil witch, she would have. At some point my father decided rather then visit Grandpa on Christmas day as we always had we would join the main Christmas Eve Dinner.

My grandfather's second wife had four sons from her first marriage. One was an overly masculine hunter jock. Another was just really a wash out. The third, our family favorite and my father's best friend, had alternate means of making a living. The fourth ran away to Australia, married a man, and they had twins with a Lesbian Couple and now feature an awesome family unit.

Sadly we never got to meet that son. Instead we had washout, hunter, and our favorite. There were five to six other kids just off my age and had no interest in me. My parents were equally isolated. And the evil step grand mother was constantly causing drama with our unit.

The drives home from those almost Siberian settings were very tense and frequently ended in a lot of yelling between my parents.

Kind of sleepy so tune in tomorrow for: Tree Wars.