Family Ties

Christmas is family time.

Christmas is spending slightly too many days with the above-mentioned family. Christmas is doing your best not to get into an argument with members of the family in spite of all the things you really should discuss. Christmas is remembering why you hate them so much, and immediately afterwards why you love them so much.

Christmas is eating food you wouldn’t normally touch with a ten-foot pole only because it is traditional (lute fish, I’m looking at you) and enjoying this food.

Christmas is all these candles you can’t burn because the children/the dog/the drunken Santa Claus might knock them over and then the whole house would burn down and you’d all be killed. And that wouldn’t be at all like Christmas.

Christmas is having a moment to yourself curled up with a book and a cup of tea while the kids are watching cartoons, feeling thankful that no one will burn any of those headache-inducing scented candles.

Christmas is eating the weird marinated garlic your mother-in-law found at the Christmas market and taking seconds only because she went to all that trouble. Christmas is kissing your garlicky husband on the cheek while being bombarded by the pom-pom in his Christmas hat.

Christmas is listening to screaming kids who have taken in too little nutrition and too much sugar going crazy with too many toys while too many adults pretend to find it adorable. Christmas is the look on children’s faces when opening their presents.

Christmas is putting exhausted children to bed, well, the children don’t seem that exhausted but you are since it’s three hours past their bedtime and they’re like wound-up toys that can’t be unwound and now it’s past your bedtime.

Christmas is sleeping on a narrow bed that gives you a backache but still feeling kind of lucky since you’re sleeping next to the man you love.

Christmas is when the kids sleep an hour later than usual next morning and your gratefulness for the lie-in spilleth over.

Christmas is family time.

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