I have perhaps the lamest family tradition in all the vast history of Christmas. Ever since I was a wee child, my mother and father have bought insanely stupid Christmas t-shirts for everyone in the family, forced us to wear them all Christmas morning, and then take a picture of everyone in their stupid shirts in front of the fireplace. This hasn't happened just once or twice, but on EVERY Christmas since I was born. There are even pictures of me and my sister wearing these things as babies.
I'm 19 years old now, and my sister is 17. We're both in college and out of the house, so we had to travel all the way across the state in order to attend Christmas at my parents house. We both attend the same college, so I drove the both of us there. On the way, my sister just looks at me and says, "I'm not doing the Christmas t-shirts thing again this year. Mom said she's putting them on Facebook. I'll die."
A chill went up my spine. Mom knew Facebook? More importantly, it seems like mom knows how to use it too. Things were looking pretty dire for me and lil sis. I sat up a little straighter in my seat because things had taken a much bigger turn for the worse. We sat quietly for a bit until I turned to her and said, "I'm not doing it. I don't care if she screams and cries. I don't care if she cancels the Holiday. I'm not doing the Christmas t-shirts picture. Are you with me?" I could tell by the steely look in her eye and by her crisp nod that she was. We were going to ruin Christmas morning.
When my sister and I got there, we had to make our way through the clump of relatives already there who all wanted to hug us and tell us how big we were, which is what they say every Christmas. There would be no Christmas t-shirts until well after dinner, so I knew I had some time to chill out and enjoy some good family and great food. I ate until I was miserable and had some fun with my kid cousins for a while until it was almost time for bed.
I should have never let myself get comfortable. I had gotten caught up in enjoying the Holiday and forgot that I should be wary of the monster waiting for me at the foot of the stairs. I never thought twice about hugging my mom and telling her it was nice to be home. She took that moment of vulnerability to put one of those Christmas t-shirts right in my unsuspecting hand. It was green. It had bunnies on it. She gave me a kiss and went to bed.
I knew by the look on her face and by the fabric in her hands that my sister had been targeted first. She looked miserable and I knew images were flashing through her brain of her friends laughing and pointing at her as they held up blown-up copies of her Christmas t-shirts picture at basketball games. I sighed and she looked up, sharing a glance with me that lasted for a hair longer than a heartbeat. "See you at the picture tomorrow, sis." We both knew that mother could not be denied. She had won yet again.
I'm 19 years old now, and my sister is 17. We're both in college and out of the house, so we had to travel all the way across the state in order to attend Christmas at my parents house. We both attend the same college, so I drove the both of us there. On the way, my sister just looks at me and says, "I'm not doing the Christmas t-shirts thing again this year. Mom said she's putting them on Facebook. I'll die."
A chill went up my spine. Mom knew Facebook? More importantly, it seems like mom knows how to use it too. Things were looking pretty dire for me and lil sis. I sat up a little straighter in my seat because things had taken a much bigger turn for the worse. We sat quietly for a bit until I turned to her and said, "I'm not doing it. I don't care if she screams and cries. I don't care if she cancels the Holiday. I'm not doing the Christmas t-shirts picture. Are you with me?" I could tell by the steely look in her eye and by her crisp nod that she was. We were going to ruin Christmas morning.
When my sister and I got there, we had to make our way through the clump of relatives already there who all wanted to hug us and tell us how big we were, which is what they say every Christmas. There would be no Christmas t-shirts until well after dinner, so I knew I had some time to chill out and enjoy some good family and great food. I ate until I was miserable and had some fun with my kid cousins for a while until it was almost time for bed.
I should have never let myself get comfortable. I had gotten caught up in enjoying the Holiday and forgot that I should be wary of the monster waiting for me at the foot of the stairs. I never thought twice about hugging my mom and telling her it was nice to be home. She took that moment of vulnerability to put one of those Christmas t-shirts right in my unsuspecting hand. It was green. It had bunnies on it. She gave me a kiss and went to bed.
I knew by the look on her face and by the fabric in her hands that my sister had been targeted first. She looked miserable and I knew images were flashing through her brain of her friends laughing and pointing at her as they held up blown-up copies of her Christmas t-shirts picture at basketball games. I sighed and she looked up, sharing a glance with me that lasted for a hair longer than a heartbeat. "See you at the picture tomorrow, sis." We both knew that mother could not be denied. She had won yet again.
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