When I was growing up, Christmas blew. My brother and I were carted all over town to see a million different relatives that seemed to belong to everyone but us. Step-parents and their parents and their kids and their sisters and their neighbor's cousin's dog's breeder's mothers. Times two because both my mom and dad remarried.

I hated it. Brian hated it.
We hated it.

There were years that we didn't make it to either sets of our own grandparents' because our parents were too busy trying to make their new(ish) spouses happy. Do you know how that feels? I hope not. Because it makes you feel very tiny and unimportant.

Now that I'm grown up and making the rules I don't go anywhere I don't want to go on Christmas Day. Before Jake was born, Dave and I went downtown for Chinese and a movie. Now that Jake is here, we call up Jade Garden and order in about $100 worth of chowgeneralhunanfoogoodness and park ourselves in the living room all day.

Our friends sometimes drop by to get a break from the Christmas Day madness. Sometimes they eat. Sometimes they fall asleep.

Behind my bewreathed front door you will always find peace and solitude and friendship on Christmas Day. No one is fighting for space in the kitchen. There is never a line for the bathroom. No one is getting their cheeks pinched by a weird aunt or trying to keep their cleavage out the creepy uncle's line of sight. No one is on the verge of puking as a result of keeping their questionable habits a secret from grandma. No one is pretending to be nice. No one is pressured to be good. No one is pretending like they didn't make out with their cousin before they knew they were cousins because their moms weren't talking for 15 years and how the hell were they supposed to know that they were actually related plus it doesn't count because they were drunk and it is dark at 3am so they didn't notice they had the same nose. (what?) There are no screaming children. No screaming sisters. No fine china. No dry turkey.

Just.

Quiet.

And a double order of Singapore Noodles. With curry, of course.

You are welcome to stop by. You don't even have to talk. You can knock on the door and walk right up the stairs and crash on my bed and cry if you need to.

Please stay out of my underwear drawer.

Merry Christmas everybody. I hope that your day is peaceful and full of all that is good in the world.