Christmas and X-ray.

So Christmas is just around the corner and I am more than amped for my bar-none FAVOURITE holiday.  Christmas just has EVERYTHING you want in a good holiday.  There is lots of food, family times, a big jolly man who brings you toys, and everything smells like Christmas trees.  I dare anyone to come up with a better holiday.

Anyway, so I was thinking about Christmas, and I think it is super cool how every family does it different.  My Christmases are always at our house (mainly because my dad is the best cook).  My crazy Italian grandpa always spends Christmas Eve at our house and in the morning we open our stockings from Santa.  My grandpa to this day is still shocked that EVERY year Santa brings him things and he bitches for a bit about how we shouldn’t have and then once he finds the box of his favourite chocolates he shuts up.

Every time someone else tells me about their Christmas, I literally just picture them in my house at Christmas doing our Christmas things.  I have no idea if that is normal or not…

Another little Hartman-family-Christmas tradition is how we decorate our Christmas tree.  It is primarily my mother and I who decorate the tree, while my brother stands around sulking and begrudgingly helps me with the lights after I yell at him.  My dad always sits on the couch drinking rum and cokes while we decorate the tree and points out “spots we missed.”  Now, I would like to clarify, my father is not an alcoholic, and my brother is in fact a scrooge.  Anyway, our tree is one of those ridiculously-tacky christmas trees, filled with crappy ornaments my brother and I made when we were little and 8-year-old candy canes.  After we fill our tree with all our crappy ornaments, we COVER the tree with tinsel.  So much tinsel that the tree only resembles a tree in shape, it becomes a giant shiny, sparkly, tinsell-y pyramid.  The only way you know it is still a tree, is if you get close enough to smell the Christmas-tree smell.



Enough of the Ariel-Christmas reminiscing.

Ariel out.

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