Winter vacation is all around, just waiting for us to embrace the snowflakes
and the warm smiles. The feeling of hope and joy is in the air. But sometimes it
feels like all hope can be lost when you awake one morning and realize that your
family has turned into the Griswald’s and there’s nothing you can do about it.
All families have their little holiday quirks. But why is it only during the
holiday season that they must make these quirks public? Picking out a Christmas
tree should be a pleasant event complete with red noses and hot chocolates, but
there are some families that have grown so tired of the frustration over the
years that now they bring their trusty dog JujuBee on the hunt—and it’s all been
agreed that the first one the dog pees on is the one they purchase.
"Has anyone noticed that when it’s time for your family to
leave the house, suddenly everyone has to go to the bathroom?"
Then
there’s the big political debate on what looks better, clear or
colored lights. You want the pretty colored lights that you remember
from your youth, and your parents want the more sophisticated white
lights. Everyone gets all worked up, but in the end, color doesn’t
even matter because it always comes down to which cord is the least
tangled in the box.
Has anyone noticed that those insanely large inflatable decorations have
taken over people’s homes? I assume that with the rising cost of electrical
bills, the huge waving snowmen are cheaper than bedazzling the house with
lights-a-plenty. But some of them are so ridiculously large they’re spilling out
from the lawn and onto the sidewalk. And who’s in those snowglobe decos in
Hollywood? My money’s on Pauly Shore and Stephen Baldwin—they made Biodome,
they should be used to it.
Has anyone noticed that when it’s time for your family to leave the house,
suddenly everyone has to go to the bathroom? As soon as your mom screams for
everyone to get their butts outside or she’s leaving without them, a sudden
panicked scatter ensues from the general direction of the living room. A trip to
the mall includes six trips to the can, and that’s even before the car leaves
the garage. It’s like the only one in the house who suddenly doesn’t have to pee
is the dog. And why does the
one person who has to take a poop always manage to get to the john first?
Then there’s the food brought over to you by your neighbors. There are always
certain neighbors you like receiving from more than others. Especially the ones
who bring over the staples of the holiday season: chocolate chip cookies,
Turkish delights, frosted gingerbread snaps, etc. But there are some generous
neighbors who branch out, and you have to question the quality of the
ingredients used in their holiday concoction. It’s not the apricot fruit tart
that smells like kitty litter I’m concerned about, but the mystery main entrée.
I’m pretty sure nobody bites into lasagna expecting to pick out small pieces of
bone.
Every mom has a particular way of running their household. More specifically,
their kitchen. Some moms will tolerate you picking at food before you eat. Other
moms will smack your hand away with a spatula. My mother hides all the forks in
the house until everyone has sat down at their assigned seats at Christmas
dinner. It started three years ago when five forks went missing and were never
heard from again. So now we all sit down, say a little prayer, and then start
passing around the forks which are situated in a dish much like the way your
family serves its mashed potatoes. Thanks Ma.
Can you feed me by hand too or should I just sit here and drool in a cup.
