I made a promise to myself last year that Christmas 2014 would be one to remember, and it certainly was. After resolving a few issues over the last few months I was genuinely looking forward to the prospect of celebrating the festive season with my family.
The first few days were quiet and peaceful. My mum and I relaxed, ate our own body weight in beautiful food (she’s a wonderful cook) and I was forced to watch re-runs of The Waltons in the morning and her beloved soap operas in the evening (during which NOTHING happened – why do people watch this rubbish?). On Christmas Day we woke up quite early, we exchanged gifts and then prepared ourselves for the whirlwind that is my youngest sister and her new husband, my brother-in-law, who were driving us to my middle sister’s apartment where we were going to eat our lunch. They didn’t disappoint, arriving in their Christmas jumpers with a car full of presents and a rather terrifying three-foot plastic gnome that they had called Ian.
It was truly the best Christmas Day I’ve had in a long time. We all opened our presents in a flurry of chaos, photographs (that included Ian the Scary Gnome) and thanks, much to the amusement of my middle sister’s new boyfriend. My youngest sister had brought a ‘selfie-stick’ to attach to her phone and the resulting photographs are some of my favourites of this year – Ellen DeGeneres can kiss my foot. My middle sister’s boyfriend left to spend to Christmas with his family and we started getting everything prepared (although when I say we, I mean my mum and sisters – I found a comfortable place on the couch and proceeded to work my way through several bottles of cider – too many cooks and all that), while my brother-in-law put together the Lego Star Wars set I had bought him.
The food was beautiful, particularly the truly epic chocolate cake that my brother-in-law had made and we spent the rest of the day playing games, taking and laughing. I laughed so much my face hurt. My mum worked her way through a bottle of champagne, accused us of cheating whenever she was losing, my sister fell asleep on the couch and by the evening we were shattered. We returned home and I was yet again forced to watch the Christmas episodes of the soaps, which were extremely depressing, only to realise that my mum had fallen asleep and had missed them. Dammit.
It was a Christmas to be thankful for. The Bloke is on his way to pick me up and we’re driving home, and I’m looking forward to curling up with him and the cats and watching TV programmes that don’t make me want to punch myself in the face. However, this will also be the first time where I won’t be feeling a sense of relief that the day is over, and I’m looking forward to the time where we can all get together again.
How about you guys? Did you have a Christmas to remember?
You can also find me on Twitter and Tumblr @suzie81blog and don’t forget to check out my Facebook page http://www.facebook.com/suzie81speaks