Our little Christmas went a little something like this:
As soon as the last drumstick was eaten our Christmas traditions would begin, we'd all gather around and watch the greatest of all holiday movies - National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. In the weeks leading up to Christmas we'd make my Nana's secret recipe (Betty Crocker) caramels, which we'd give out to friends and family in hopes that they'd follow in our 10 pound holiday gain. We'd spend nights sledding down our black diamond hill and sharing hot buttered rum with Meme (our other grandma). My mom would purchase 100s of holiday cards only to forget to send them and in true procrastinator spirit - we'd decorate the tree a week before.
And finally, Christmas Eve would arrive - we'd snuggle up and listen to Mom read "The Night Before Christmas" with holiday music in the background, play some cards and then around 6 pm we'd all run to one of our rooms (because on Christmas Eve we all slept together) so Christmas morning would come early. We'd lay there too excited to sleep dreaming about all the surprises we'd find under the tree the next day - and usually, I'd try to get the secrets out of my younger siblings. We'd wake up to my Dad's blueberry muffins baking in the oven and drag ourselves sleepily to the sofa and sit sheepishly waiting for our gifts because even on the greatest of holidays and in the comfort of our own home - we're all incredibly shy.



