DISCLAIMER: I’m largely serious when I say that if you are of the no-jokes-allowed religious persuasion, or if you aren’t at least of military enlistment age, then you probably should skip this blog entry all together. That is my Christmas gift to you. For everyone else- you have been warned.
Get your wine ready, cuz it’s time to head down to the Cape.
Christmas day, and just like last year we’re on the road first thing in the morning. Since everyone converges at my mother’s house, I decide to send a text to my siblings to let them know that we are on the road.
After sending out my text, this is the response that I get from my older sister.
Ahh Mashpee. As we roll through our old school bus route, I’m glad to see that the Riverbend Motel and Zachary’s Pub is all dolled up for the season. I wonder if the strippers have Santa outfits to match the lawn ornament.
At long-last we arrive at Christmas. Everyone is already there, and we quickly set about to preparing for the gift opening portion of the day. Before you accuse us of being completely secular, let me assure you that some twisted version of church will surface later on in the day.
As we all gather around the tree, we look for someone to oversee the kids in handing out presents. We kind of voluntell our Italian-American brother-in-law to do this job, and he obliges with great alacrity. Just as I was happy to assimilate into his family’s Christmas eve tradition, he has done well to roll into our crazy version of the holiday. He doles out gifts with rapidity, and before we know it people are doing a crummy job of waiting until the preceding person has opened their gift and thanked the appropriate giver. Manners are very important in our household- even if every other semblance of decorum falls apart shortly thereafter.
A Buckingham Palace shower cap for Mom, an old timey Moxie soda sign for Dad.
If you remember anything about Myriah from last year’s Christmas, you know that she enjoys her share of eyebrow-raising presents. And because she enjoys them a little too much, her reaction is rewarded with more NC-17 gifts- and that my friends, is what makes our Hallinan Christmases so scandalous entertaining.
We’re taking photographs of the wrapping paper hailstorm when my brother-in-law and I turn around and notice that something is amiss with the nativity scene. Very amiss.
This same brother-in-law (the one who is responsible for the high quality photos in this entry) gets a special gift from me. He learns about Krampus, the Austrian Christmas devil that packs rotten kids into his lair after Santa anoints all the nice children of the season.
Obscene gesturing notepads and defiled Analee dolls observed, we decide that it’s time for some annual Christmas refreshment.
We knew that there were a couple of gifts under the tree that would have to wait until the end of the wrapping session. You know how sometimes strange things enter you life and you don’t know what to do with them? In our house, the answer is wrap them up and give them to Myriah.
Christmas is not just about randomly inappropriate adult gifts. Really, it’s about the kids, and we do a good job of keeping them out of the room when questionable items are opened. Besides, these little guys got loads of good loot, and my non-parenting ass was happy to see them all so well-behaved.
We didn’t have a white Christmas this year, but at one stage in the day looked out the window and saw flakes falling outside. Nice touch.
This mass convergence of people is getting hectic, so Dharma and I decide that it’s time for a yogic pause.
Yoga gives way to further scandal. Myriah continues to get crazy gifts, which provide far more entertainment than anything else that this day has seen. At about this stage my stomach hurts from laughing so much. I wish I could tell you what was on this DVD. Let’s just say that it was won in a Boston Bar claw game.
We all get a little crazy as the morning turns into afternoon.
I kind of lost the bubble on what was going on, but about ten minutes after the DVD was unwrapped, I looked over and saw my brother-in-law excitedly opening a plastic tub of something. What are they? Why they’re communion wafers. And everybody wants to have a taste. “They taste like foam!” says my little niece.
Yes, this is what Christmas refreshments have become. Now you might understand the warning at the top of this page.
I don’t want to tell you that the dog loves Jesus, but from the looks of this his loyalty, he was certainly looking for more handouts from my brother-in-law. Unfortunately for him, communion was complete.
Once the Christmas gifts were all opened up, it was time for a great dinner cooked up by my mum.
So Dad was tasked with bringing wine to the dinner event, and this is the bottle that was presented at the table. My brother-in-law and I were cracking up as we read how the contents of this fruit-flavored wine contains high fructose corn syrup, yet no fruit juice. You will be shocked to hear that this bottle never got opened. Next year Dad is tasked with bringing salmon.
After dinner we were settled into a relaxed state to watch the first Celtics game of the season. The gag gifts were somehow covertly opened and tried on for size while other people sat in wine-infused oblivion. We have photoshopped this Kodak moment for your protection.
The afternoon settles back into peace and a solid PG rating. My two nieces and I opt to take a stroll down to John’s Pond to take a look around.
And of course I win aunt of the year for letting the girls roam wherever they want. Besides, that dog’s gotta work off all those Christmas communion wafers.
It’s clear, cold and incredibly peaceful outside. Unlike in the summertime, we’ve got all of the pond to ourselves. I keep trying to blow the girls’ minds by telling them that we all used to come down to this same spot when we were little, but they weren’t terribly impressed. I certainly was.
We kneel into the sane for a group photo before heading back to the house.
As we’re walking back, I can see that people are making preparation to get back on the road. While some siblings search for their winter jackets, other siblings ensure that certain vehicles are outfitted with the appropriate devilry.
This photo is serving as a placeholder for my little sister, who spent this Christmas day working in New York City. We definitely missed having her with us, and hope that everyone can be together next year.
Here she is, the later-on addition.
So Merry Christmas to my awesome family. The experience of being a Hallinan may be viewed as inappropriate in most other households, but personally I couldn’t be bothered with what other people think. Throughout the course of the day, I laughed more than I have since probably last Christmas, and the opportunity to be amongst my kind did wonders for my morale.
P.S. I have no idea how next year’s Christmas will ever hope to top the 2011, but I’m totally looking forward to it already.