The Days of Wine and Mimi - Part 3

Christmas makes you feel emotional
It may bring parties or thoughts devotional
--"Silver Bells" by Jay Livingston and Ray Evans

For millions of Americans it can also lead to crippling stress, acute depression, and mind-numbing despair. We try to walk a middle ground in our family.

"Jazz Hands!"

Our children seem somehow to have been conceived and born without that gene that causes them to wake up at 2am on Christmas morning. I don't regret it. It's rather nice to, even on Christmas, get up alone and have a kitchen and a pot of tea to myself for an hour or two. This year my morning reverie was happily accompanied by early-rising Mimi and we swapped out strong coffee for my sissy tea. Late nights make for pleasantly lazy mornings and it was way beyond what would have been construed as a decent hour in my childhood before the first bleary-eyed, dopey-faced, stiff and staggering kid made his/her way out from the bedrooms.

Eventually we rounded up the entire crew, got a putative breakfast into them, and launched into the Christmas morning gift assault.  Daddy and Grampy traded off gift-giving responsibilities (a big deal in our family), until L and N could contain themselves no longer and staged a coup d'état and jointly ascended to the role.  As usual the haul was excessive and somewhat troubling, considering the depressing and constant downward trend of our open-to-stuffed living space ratio.  I secretly planned a purge of all vintage 2009 gifts.

After the gift-giving had reached its opulent conclusion, Stacy and I turned to prep for the evening dinner. We were hosting the extended family with beau coup to do to be ready to chew. Vegetables were hacked to bits, turkeys were offended, cranberries were set a-stewing. Appetizers assembled, desserts designed, sides and staples slopped together. As usual, however, a little work breeds a little rest, and the beds and pillows were not entirely forsaken.

The appointed festive hour descended at last and our guests began trickling in.  Aunt Claudia brought GGPa.  Aunt Joyce and Mr. Jay joined us from Monrovia.  Kirk and Lynne came down with Uncle Kyle, who was much-anticipated by L and N, and who probably had not fully recovered from their attacks of the previous night.  The food all ended up coming together successfully, the table was set, whereupon we set in!

After that it was play time, and oh, yeah! More gifts!  (OK, I am the height of hypocrisy, because I was over the moon with the Kindle Kirk and Lynne got me.)

We rarely get GGPa down to our place, so it was especially nice to have him there.

Eventually the food, gifts and revelers were exhausted and we were able to drop the kids on mattresses and hit an easy chair ourselves --  to sit, perhaps to dream.