on christmas eve, especially when they were still together, my parents and my sister and i always opened up the family presents. i gave them their presents, my sister gave me mine and so they all got passed around. on christmas day we opened up the "santa" presents after creeping down the stairs at six in the morning and playing with whatever was in our stockings until about seven-thirtyish or eight when my parents woke up. we arranged our presents from smallest to biggest, though, sometimes, the smallest presents were always the best. i learned this tonight when i opened up an envelope of twenty dollar bills from my mom amounting to a hundred when i owe her at least three hundred dollars.
now i am twenty and my parents have long been split up, i haven't talked to my dad in a year and a half, and we still have the same tradition. i feel like i am seven or eight and still in the thick of my santa hey-day watching christmas movies and shows all snuggled up in the new pajamas my mom always buys us and we always wear on christmas eve (this year we got candy cane and pink pajamas to wear and you better believe we're going to wake up in them tomorrow morning.) my sister bought my velcro hair rollers, a top of the line hair straightener and my mom gave us money along with said pjs and a bevy of tv on dvd to further my couch potato status over holiday break. no matter what has happened before christmas, or even on christmas eve, everything mysteriously gets set aside and, for a few hours at least, we are some semblance of normal and peaceful, so full of love.
even if it is horribly commercial and corporate, christmas is special. it is what it is.
merry christmas
(and happy hanukkah)
love,
currently listening to: little joy--brand new start
