Let me start by saying that I love my mom dearly. She's a great lady, and an even better mother. She thinks about her kids before she thinks of herself...unless it is Christmas morning. When Christmas morning rolls around, she makes everyone in the whole family put on these incredibly lame Christmas tee shirts that started losing their charm somewhere around 5th grade. It's not just the immediate family, either. This is a massive family portrait with cousins, uncles, aunts, and whoever is within thirty feet of the front door who can fit into one of these shirts. My sister and I hate it.
I'm 19 years old now, and my sister is 17. We're both in college and out of the house, so we had to travel all the way across the state in order to attend Christmas at my parents house. We both attend the same college, so I drove the both of us there. On the way, my sister just looks at me and says, "I'm not doing the Christmas picture thing again this year. Mom said she's putting them on Facebook. I'll die."
What? Mom knows how to use Facebook now? I vaguely remember a late night when I accepted a friend request from her, laughing at how silly the thought of her on Facebook was. The whole thing seemed much less funny now. We rode along in silence for a long while before I looked at her and replied, "Yeah. That is absurd. There is no way I'm going to let her ruin my life with those photos of hers. This is the year we make a stand." We both steeled our nerves and considered the implications of our decision.
We arrived with gifts in tow. Everyone was already there, so I had to go through the long gauntlet of hugs from aunts and uncles that I only see once a year. My grandmother still insists on pinching me, so I had to endure through that as well. I knew I could relax because the tees never come out until the end of the night, and there were hours yet and a big meal to eat before that time came. I enjoyed the food and the family a great deal, ate my pie, and had lots of fun with the kids playing Xbox.
I should have never let myself get comfortable. I had gotten caught up in enjoying the Holiday and forgot that I should be wary of the monster waiting for me at the foot of the stairs. I never thought twice about hugging my mom and telling her it was nice to be home. She took that moment of vulnerability to put one of those Christmas shirts right in my unsuspecting hand. It was green. It had bunnies on it. She gave me a kiss and went to bed.
I knew by the look on her face and by the fabric in her hands that my sister had been targeted first. She looked miserable and I knew images were flashing through her brain of her friends laughing and pointing at her as they held up blown-up copies of her Christmas t-shirts picture at basketball games. I sighed and she looked up, sharing a glance with me that lasted for a hair longer than a heartbeat. "See you at the picture tomorrow, sis." We both knew that mother could not be denied. She had won yet again.
I'm 19 years old now, and my sister is 17. We're both in college and out of the house, so we had to travel all the way across the state in order to attend Christmas at my parents house. We both attend the same college, so I drove the both of us there. On the way, my sister just looks at me and says, "I'm not doing the Christmas picture thing again this year. Mom said she's putting them on Facebook. I'll die."
What? Mom knows how to use Facebook now? I vaguely remember a late night when I accepted a friend request from her, laughing at how silly the thought of her on Facebook was. The whole thing seemed much less funny now. We rode along in silence for a long while before I looked at her and replied, "Yeah. That is absurd. There is no way I'm going to let her ruin my life with those photos of hers. This is the year we make a stand." We both steeled our nerves and considered the implications of our decision.
We arrived with gifts in tow. Everyone was already there, so I had to go through the long gauntlet of hugs from aunts and uncles that I only see once a year. My grandmother still insists on pinching me, so I had to endure through that as well. I knew I could relax because the tees never come out until the end of the night, and there were hours yet and a big meal to eat before that time came. I enjoyed the food and the family a great deal, ate my pie, and had lots of fun with the kids playing Xbox.
I should have never let myself get comfortable. I had gotten caught up in enjoying the Holiday and forgot that I should be wary of the monster waiting for me at the foot of the stairs. I never thought twice about hugging my mom and telling her it was nice to be home. She took that moment of vulnerability to put one of those Christmas shirts right in my unsuspecting hand. It was green. It had bunnies on it. She gave me a kiss and went to bed.
I knew by the look on her face and by the fabric in her hands that my sister had been targeted first. She looked miserable and I knew images were flashing through her brain of her friends laughing and pointing at her as they held up blown-up copies of her Christmas t-shirts picture at basketball games. I sighed and she looked up, sharing a glance with me that lasted for a hair longer than a heartbeat. "See you at the picture tomorrow, sis." We both knew that mother could not be denied. She had won yet again.
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