Our tale of resistance and woe picks up right where it left off. I had been exiled to the basement, vowing revenge for my parents’ disgusting crime of Christmas befoulment:
1. The decorations would not go up until December 10.
2. The Muppet Christmas Carol would not be watched Christmas Eve. We could watch it the 23rd if we wanted to, but on Christmas Eve we would be doing other things.
3. The gingerbread house would be done much later in the season.
4. The lights on the tree, when it finally would go up, would be all blue.
That night, I held a meeting under the blankets in my sister’s room. It was the inaugural meeting of the Christmas Resistance Movement (CRM).
Continue reading “The Christmas Resistance Movement (CRM)”
Once upon a time, my parents got married.
Fools.
They forgot to consider the horrific ramifications of marriage. Sharing sheets, for one. Also, whose version of meatloaf is going to win: the mummified husk of overcooked meat from the Larsens, or the sopping wet, bread-infused soupy Fuhriman recipe?
One that did not loom large at the time was CHRISTMAS.
Continue reading “The Folly of Christmas Traditions”
Perils and Pitfalls 