Christmas, the time of year when all my family gathers together, with smiles, hugs, and good spirits…and spends the better part of three days trying to one up each other.
Yes in my parents yard on Christmas day you will see all the cars have been washed and some have even been waxed.
Christmas with my family actually starts three days before Christmas, that’s when all of the men in the family go in search of a tree. Like Moses wandering through the wilderness, we wander through the neighborhood.
There is a lot that goes into picking out the Light family tree.
What kind of tree is it?
Is it a well filled out tree?
Is it tall enough?
Will we get caught stealing it?
Does it already have decorations on it? (That’s a big plus)
After we have managed to borrow a tree and sneak it back home, then comes the fun of trimming the tree.
First we all gather around and pass the jug, then the kids start stringing popcorn, we don’t use it on the tree, they just like to string popcorn and use it to taunt the pigeons.
After a nice meal of sweet potatoes, grits and squab, we pass the jug again and start hanging stuff on the tree.
Once my dad accidentally hung a full beer can on the tree, instead of the usual empty ones, the ensuing riot destroyed the tree and the living room wall, it ended with great-uncle Ezra wrestling my nephew Jebadiah for it, I tell ya a toothless 90-year-old in a wheelchair can throw down when it comes to an unopened Pabst Blue Ribbon. If it hadn’t of been for Jebadiah choking him out with his colostomy bag, I think Ezra would have won.
After the tree is decorated and we are all likkered up, we go outside and began singing Christmas Carrolls, this usually lasts up until the police get there and give us our noise warning.
After they leave we somberly pass the jug around and stand in the front yard mooning the neighbors. This usually lasts until the police come up to give us our public indecency warning.
After they leave this time we somberly pass the jug around again and begin the annual Light family fireworks show, which used to consist of someone shooting Roman Candles at the outhouse, but ever since the time when we found out exactly how flammable methane is and what methane is, we no longer have an outhouse.
Now all we do is usually set off a firecracker in a fire ant bed, I tell ya the fun never ends.
The next day the men spend the day sobering up, while the women spend the day burning various forms of food stuff, we usually have baked turkey, baked chicken, baked spam, baked potted meat sandwiches, bakes sweet potatoes, baked cranberry sauce, baked possum, baked carp, all deliciously burned to charcoal like consistency.
By then it’s the next day, which is Christmas.
We start Christmas day with the kids opening their presents, and dad opening a beer or twelve, Mom opens a jug and we all take a big swig and start feeling the Christmas spirit.
After the kids have opened their toys, and have gotten their little butts out of the way, the grown ups gather around the table for some food that has hopefully softened over night.
Uncle Ezra being the oldest living family member and well respected will start a prayer that usually goes something like this ‘Lord bless this food, and this drink, and bless those dishes over by the sink, bless the cooks that they didn’t poison our asses this year, bless the homebrew that it don’t give me the trots again, and blesssss zzzzzzzzzzzzzz’
By then someone has usually rolled Unc’s old ass out on the back porch and we dive into the food.
After eating dinner we pass around the jug, Pepto Bismol this time, and after the puke-a-thon we are all ready to rest and head back to our own houses where we can recover in peace
I would have taken time to go into more detail but right now I have to scout out some Christmas trees.
Merry Christmas everyone.
