Well, if you haven't heard, we had a White Christmas this year. I'm not sure who was more excited, me or my cat. Macy rushed from window to window trying to determine whether or not the white specks falling from the sky wished to do her harm (think Wizard of Oz, "Are you a good witch? or a bad witch?").
As usual, Dad made breakfast and I slipped around the corner to see what Santa had left me. Mother says that Santa is running out of room on his sleigh for twenty-three-year olds; I insist that if Santa really loves me, he'll make room.
Christmas was good to me this year: riding boots, dresses, make-up, the annual Snow Baby ornament, a couple small home decor items from Anthropologie (Santa is so good to check my online wish list), pearl earrings (I have to mention that my dad picked them out because he did such a good job), and a few other this and that's. Spoiled much? Definitely.
Above all, though, I can truly say that the best part of Christmas was spending time with my family. Sure, I'm a little materialistic. I like pretty things, and I'm a sucker for name brands. But you can't put a price on tradition and laughter.
Every year on Christmas Eve, Mom and I watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Which means, every year on Christmas Eve, Mom and I crack up over the same animated faces we've seen time and time again. Something about that Grinch, though... Gets us every time.
Every year on Christmas, we play games. Oftentimes we play Scrabble, Dad's specialty, but this year we switched it up a bit with Trivial Pursuit because it was one of my Christmas gifts. Mom and I always play Monopoly, but Dad sits out because he only plays games he feels sure he can win.
Every year, Dad and I watch White Christmas. I should scratch that out because that was switched up a little bit this year as well: every year, Dad and I watch a Bing Crosby Christmas movie. We traded in White Christmas for the Crosby and Astaire classic Holiday Inn. It was cute, but we'll probably go back to White Christmas next year. Fred Astaire is a wonder to watch, but it's hard to beat Danny Kaye, in my humble opinion.
Every year, Dad suggests that we wait and open presents the next day. Or an hour before dinner. Or not at all. Basically, every year Dad tries to act like he doesn't know that we have a strict tradition enforcement policy around here.
It's been a few years since I've spent all of Christmas at home with my parents, and I've missed it more than I realized. I am so blessed to have a family that, gifts and jokes aside, celebrates Christmas because of a desire to celebrate Christ's birth, an event so incredible that I cannot find words to do it justice. How do you describe the God of Creation sending His Son to us, knowing all that He would endure... for us? Measly, complaining, wretched us.
What a mind-blowing day it is, really! Family, friends, food, laughter, presents, awful holiday sweaters... and the celebration of the most incredible, life-changing gift ever given to mankind. Whoa: Christmas is awesome.
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