Don't Mess with Christmas Routine!, 2005, by Megan Mathre

From MemoryArchive

Who: Megan Mathre
What: Christmas
When: Last Year
Where: Middle of Nowhere

Christmas Day…well! I would definitely have to say that December 25th is my favorite day of the year. We have a routine, see…certain traditions that we follow year after year. But the one I remember most would be (dun dun DUN!!!) my Christmas of last year…probably because it’s most recent, so it’s the freshest in my memory.

On Christmas Eve Day, my mom, my dad, my brother, and I, pile into our tiny silver Ford Focus and drive to the center of the Ville for my dad’s extended family’s Christmas. It’s very crowded; about 50 of us pile into my grandma’s condominium, and it’s not a very comfortable day, because I am in a stuffy, crowded room with all kinds of people that I only see once a year (on Christmas), but it’s okay, because they give me presents.

Anyhoo, very late that night, we four Mathre’s pile into that same tiny silver Ford Focus, for the long ride home, so that we can sleep, and then wake up, and then…it’ll be Christmas!! So, driving home, about to fall asleep, but trying not to, looking at all the pretty lights, listening to Christmas music, (hopefully) driving through the snow…it’s good.

But yeah, we finally get home, and it’s lucky that we’ve had such a long day, because if we weren’t completely exhausted it would take us forever to get to sleep. We open the garage door, and I mad-dash to my room (as if that’ll make Christmas come sooner), and I try in vain to fall to sleep.

What seems to be millions of years later, I awake to sunlight!!! I jump out of bed (this is the only morning of the year that I willingly get out of bed) and charge into my brother’s room, intending to wake him up, but finding that he is just getting out of bed himself. Oh well…so both of us run screaming and stomping into my parent’s room—okay, so we’re not quite screaming and stomping, but we do wake them up none too gently. I have to drag my dad to the living room, where the tree is up with the lights, and the garland, and the ornaments, and piles of presents under the tree, with two stuffed stockings just waiting for me and my brother to rip into them. My brother and I distribute the gifts, whilst my mom and dad sit on the couch, smiling and waiting…just waiting!

So…wow, it’s actually Christmas!! I dive into my stocking (not literally) and find nail polish, jewelry, hair stuff, socks, shampoo…you know, cheapish stuff that every girl either needs, or just wants. So I’m happy. My brother gets stuff like shampoo, cheap action figures, umm…legos, maybe.

And then, my brother, being the youngest, gets to open the first present. It’s probably a Transformer or something. I get to open my first present (yay!), and I have a dilemma…which one do I open first? I sit there playing eeny meeny miney moe (mostly just to annoy my dad), when eventually I just close my eyes and pick one randomly. It is…a movie!!! I like movies. I got a lot of movies last year.

So then my mom opens one. Then my dad opens one. Then my brother opens one. Then I open one. Then my mom opens one. Then—well, this goes on until we’re all out. As I sit there drooling over my new camcorder, my brother’s putting his Transformers together, my mom’s on the phone with my aunt seeing what time she wants us to come over (we always go to my aunt’s house after presents). So…I throw clothes on and grab my camcorder…maybe a few movies and CD’s, and I jump into that tiny silver Ford Focus on the mile-long trip to my aunt’s house, where my cousins get to show off their gifts as I show off mine, and (hopefully) we go outside and snowboard, sled, throw snowballs, fall down the hill, drag people up the hill, push people down the hill, climb up the hill after someone as pushed you down, until we’re numb with cold. Then we go inside and eat snow-cream, drink lots of hot-chocolate, then we watch a movie and eat supper (‘cause it’s really late now), then we go home and crash.

Hey—I don’t want to hear your mouth! Yeah, I know some of these traditions may be a little cheesy, maybe the routines are too second-grade for you, but hey…it works for me. I enjoy being a kid! Nothing wrong with that! So…don’t mess with Christmas routine. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night, love ya!