Happy Holidays

Rudolph the red nose reindeer, had a very shiny.....

.....oh! I am glad to see that this Christmas will not be She Who Must Not be Named free.

Ah, Christmas Eve. I was trying to remember if I ever experienced a "bad" Christmas Eve and I must say, off the top of my head, I am not able to recall any of which would fulfill this description. I've had the "fourth grade ear-ache-go-to-the-doctor on Christmas Eve," I've enjoyed the "OUCH! I-JUST-ZIPPED-MY-CHIN IN-MY COAT ZIPPER! Christmas Eve moment," I've had the "I've-got-mono-and-I'm-too-sick-to-function Christmas Eve," and the wife astutely reminded me I've had the "I-hate-the-holidays-I'm-going to be a big whiny-baby-cause-we-can't-be-together melodrama Christmas Eve," followed by the "take turns going to each other's families" Christmas Eves.....

Well, wait a minute--there WAS that night we spent in a hotel by O'Hare on Christmas Eve where we had NO heat in the room and they didn't have anything else to offer us and we fr-fr-froze all night (at least we were heading to the Virgin Islands the next day, where we certainly did not have to worry about freezing any further); that was an adventurous, miserably cold holiday and might qualify for a lousy holiday beginning, but since it was followed by St. Thomas and St. John's and since it was the first Christmas Eve I can remember that we were together for the blessed holiday, I think that negates anything yucky about it.

(I can easily remember a horrible Christmas Day but I won't say more as the wife and I are probably still in need of therapy over it. Suffice it to say, three hours of screaming at each other in a car is a rotten way to spread Christmas cheer.)

When I think of Christmas Eve, I think of my grandmother. I think of sitting at a kiddie table in the basement of a small house, eating lasagna. I think of my cousins, of everyone smashing into the living room and everyone opening presents at the same time. I think of the smell of my grandfather's pipe. I think of the old kind of flashbulbs--the square ones that "blew up" when taking the photo--and, of movie cameras with the blinding bright light. I think of an olive green davenport. I remember "Santa Buzzy" showing up to hand out presents. It doesn't matter that those memories are over 35 or 40 years old; it is always my first thought when I am asked to truly think about Christmas Eve. Maybe that's why I can't think of any "bad" Christmas Eves; nothing will ever "top" or "ruin" those Christmas Eves at my grandparents' house. Those yucky ones just melt into the background and are happily replaced by the warm, glowing memories of grandma in an apron, cooking and baking and organizing.

This year, we are just trying to get the wife to and from the celebration without bursting her steri-strips from here to Cheese Curd City. I'd put money on it that we'll make it, pillow seat- belted into place, pain pills in hand. We'll blow into town, stuff our faces, open a few presents and blow back out of town. It won't be quantity focused; it will be quality focused....and, there is nothing wrong with that.

Here's wishing you have a very qaulity-filled Merry Christmas Eve and an even more fabulous Christmas Day. Here's one for Grandma--ho ho ho!