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Posts Tagged ‘Christmas’

As I sat there trying not to stab my eyeballs out while listening to an extremely high volume decibel of Christmas songs (not the nice ones, you know, the one’s that SCREAM cheese and make you wonder how on earth these people ever entertained the thought of making an album), I’m shot dirty looks because I’m a ruiner.  That’s right.  Apparently, I may have ruined Christmas Eve.  

Why, you ask?  Because I’m a grinch? Possibly, but I try to fake niceness and whatnot for the sake of other Christmas lovers and family.  

Instead, I’m a ruiner because I didn’t move the car.  Yep, that’s right.  It snowed like 8 trillion centemeters over the past week or so, and then rained.  So slush had taken over.  Olympic size swimming pools of slush.  Everywhere.  My feet have been wet for 24 hours.  No matter what I do.  So there I was, in the basement frantically gift-bagging presents last minute as always and I’m told that I need to move the car, from the street to the driveway, before the plow comes or it will block me in (with all that slush?) and make a mess.  I exclaimed that it didn’t really matter, you know, since slush is not the same consistency as cement, and I was okay with dealing with it.  Anyhoo, after much frantic worrying re: slush,  I gave in and moved the damn car.  The plow had just passed, but I moved the car anyways.  I was too late and was reminded of that about 20 times. I’m pretty sure everyone heard about it, including family overseas.  Even though the plow went down the entire pool of a street, it still looked exactly the same.  But, I was too late, and therefore mysteriously caused the mess on the street. Ruiner! In her defense, the slush eventually froze and it did make a slight mess, but you know, whatever.  It was livable,  and the world didn’t end, so it couldn’t have been that terrible.   Anyhoo, I was forgiven eventually… it’s a Christmas miracle! 

I also discovered that my Eastern European side of the family has some entertaining, strange pet peeves.  For example, a cousin of mine can’t stand the smell of the fridge when it’s open.  So much so, that she literally plugs her nose, holds her breath and covers her mouth every time it’s open.  She’s worried that the fridge smell will waft into her body and turn into germs. If she has to open it herself and can’t hold her breath for as long as it takes her to make a decision, she will close the fridge, leave the room and then take a gulp of fresh, fridge-smell free, germless air.  

Cuz believes that one of my pet peeves is worse.  Every year the cousins do the dishes before present opening.  I either wash, put away, or supervise. Last year I got to supervise, which was awesomesauce, but this year the other Cuz was sick, so I opted for washing. Never, ever, do I dry.  

Our conversation went a little something like this:

Cuz:  I can’t believe you’d rather wash than dry.  You’re nuts.

Me:  Ya, well, you know, I can’t stand the feeling of a wet dish towel.

Cuz: Why?

Me:  Ew. Wet cotton.  Cotton.  Ew.  I can’t even touch a cotton ball.  It freaks me out.  Way out.

Cuz:  So you’d rather dip your hands in nasty food water and touch a germy sponge?

Me:  Yep.  I’d rather lick the sponge than touch a wet dish towel.  

Cuz:  Ewwwwww.  So gross.

Me:  Well, obviously I wouldn’t actually lick the sponge.  I just don’t like wet cotton, or cotton in general. 

Cuz:  Well do you wear cotton?

Me:  Sometimes, but I try not to get 100 percent.  I don’t even like cotton sports socks.  They give me the heebee geebees. 

Cuz:  That’s so much weirder than my fridge problem.  

Me:  I suppose.  But you’re the one who thinks fridge smell changes into germs that float up your nose and infect you.

Cuz:  Ya, we’re a weird family.

Me:  Yup.

Other than that Christmas was rather uneventful.  I still found myself spending the majority of the time driving from one city to the next.  I stayed overnight where I hadn’t in years (due to past drama), being in the spirit of the season and all.  It was drama free, but still relatively uncomfortable.  You know, that type of uneasiness where you feel the need to raise your hand to go to the washroom, and half expect a hall monitor to pop in and tell you that you’re sitting on the toilet wrong and to stop using so much toilet paper.  

All and all, it was nice to chill with the fam.  One of the highlights, as per usual, were my niece and nephew and their crazy holiday excitement.  My 5 year old niece proved that she can speak and pronounce french better than any adult I’ve ever seen (I literally almost cried, she was so damn cute). And then, the most darling 3 year old nephew ever, ran down the stairs buck naked with his schlong swinging to and fro, and then continued to plaster his face with red tinted chap stick.  Ah, the kiddo’s… always a source of good entertainment.  

And now, back to my countdown… one week until I break up with winter.  Weeee!

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