Every Damn Year

Every year, like clock work, we have a family tradition.

Some families-

-get together for traditional shows, go to the theater, or watch a favorite holiday movie.

-attend church or choir services to get them started into the holiday season.

-may share a special dinner, or even breakfast, with gifts.

-might go tree shopping at an old fashioned, ride a horse and wagon to cut down your own tree, tree farm.

-have traditional baking days with celebratory drinking to add extra spirits.

-maybe have gift wrapping parties so it doesn’t seem so drudgery or task like.   Again, with extra spirits to add cheer to the occasion.

My family?

-some poor sap, me, bites the bullet and sends the dreaded holiday email.

-“so, everyone, when are we getting together for Christmas?” it will say.

-some will reply immediately.

-some will not reply at all.

-someone will be inadvertently left off of the email list and when it is discovered they will have 2,472 emails to catch up.

-some will think it’s ridiculous to try and plan three whole weeks before Christmas when all 1500 of us will gather at the same time, same place and who’s brining what to eat.

-some will think we should have started planning it six years ago.

-someone, me, will drop the proverbial cuss word during a discussion about it.

-someone will pretend to be the voice of reason (all of my siblings) while they are secretly cussing the rest of us to their spouse.

-someone will throw their hands up and give in saying they don’t care when it is just let them know.

-no one will agree on anything.

To date this year:

-the email has been sent.

-some emails have come in.

-some emails have not come in.

-it was discovered who was left off of the list.

-nothing has been agreed upon.

-the cuss word was dropped.

-the hands were thrown up.

If nothing else, the family is dependable, everything is on schedule.  Let the festivities and the joy of the season commence!


I love my family.

They never let me down.