The Road To Hell Is Paved With Cats...
I should begin by mentioning that my family really isn't very religious. Or at all religious, really. Well, except for my mother. But she's a lapsed Protestant. I think that's because she sees a lot of horrible things as an ER nurse and can't reconcile all the nastiness with a Just And Loving God. She's always saying, "I wish I had faith. It's a wonderful thing. For people who believe." She always trails off on that last sentence, so it sort of sounds like she's mentally adding "in all that tripe." Anyway.
Every Christmas my mother makes a halfhearted attempt at making the day about religion instead of economics. It never works. Mostly, it results in awkward silences. And once it resulted in a broken nose over a dispute about evolution. Chimps vs. Dolphins. In case you were wondering. But, really, what can you expect from a family that not only counts presents but measures and weighs them as well? Christmas is all about who walks away with the most loot, and don't try to tell us otherwise...
This time, we actually made it halfway through the day before my mother gave it a try. She started off with, "Well, it would be nice to remember what Christmas is really about." When that was met by blank stares, she tried again. "Maybe we should go to an early service next year." This statement was met by horrified gaping. Not at the thought of having to go to church, even, but at the idea of having to put breakfast off for a couple of hours. So my mother gave it one more try. "Faith is really a wonderful thing." My father mumbled his reply: "I like science better." I took a moment to admire my opposable thumbs.
After a few minutes of awkward silence, my sister said, "Can we please open the presents now? Please?" My mother gave her the Look Of Doom. I took a moment to wonder if my toes were opposable, too. Silence, even more awkward than before. My sister tried again. "We've been waiting all day. How much longer do we have to sit here?" My mother snapped her response: "Until someone mentions Jesus!"
Awkward! Silence! One minute passed. Two. Three. Then, happily, there was the sound of a car door slamming in the yard. Footsteps on the stairs. My brother-in-law wandered into the living room, clutching a giant box. And then he tripped over the cat. The box went flying. The cat went running. My brother-in-law landed flat on his back. As he sat up he hollered, "Jesus Christ!" And everyone turned to look at my mother. My sister asked, "Presents?" My mother just rolled her eyes and said, "Presents."
I love my family.
Every Christmas my mother makes a halfhearted attempt at making the day about religion instead of economics. It never works. Mostly, it results in awkward silences. And once it resulted in a broken nose over a dispute about evolution. Chimps vs. Dolphins. In case you were wondering. But, really, what can you expect from a family that not only counts presents but measures and weighs them as well? Christmas is all about who walks away with the most loot, and don't try to tell us otherwise...
This time, we actually made it halfway through the day before my mother gave it a try. She started off with, "Well, it would be nice to remember what Christmas is really about." When that was met by blank stares, she tried again. "Maybe we should go to an early service next year." This statement was met by horrified gaping. Not at the thought of having to go to church, even, but at the idea of having to put breakfast off for a couple of hours. So my mother gave it one more try. "Faith is really a wonderful thing." My father mumbled his reply: "I like science better." I took a moment to admire my opposable thumbs.
After a few minutes of awkward silence, my sister said, "Can we please open the presents now? Please?" My mother gave her the Look Of Doom. I took a moment to wonder if my toes were opposable, too. Silence, even more awkward than before. My sister tried again. "We've been waiting all day. How much longer do we have to sit here?" My mother snapped her response: "Until someone mentions Jesus!"
Awkward! Silence! One minute passed. Two. Three. Then, happily, there was the sound of a car door slamming in the yard. Footsteps on the stairs. My brother-in-law wandered into the living room, clutching a giant box. And then he tripped over the cat. The box went flying. The cat went running. My brother-in-law landed flat on his back. As he sat up he hollered, "Jesus Christ!" And everyone turned to look at my mother. My sister asked, "Presents?" My mother just rolled her eyes and said, "Presents."
I love my family.