And so the fridge is beginning to bulge with Christmas cake and turkey. Carols are echoing through the neighborhood, spilling out of homes donned in twinkling fairy lights. It takes you 1.5 hours to find a park at the mall, another 3 hours of discovering the perfect present for someone, 45 minutes in line to pay, and another 2 hours leaving the car park to amble your way through fumes and horns. All under the cloud of an Australian humid summers day.
This is Christmas. And we wouldn’t do it any different.
I had a white Christmas once. I was 3, living in Dayton Ohio. The only child, spoiled with a Fisher Price kitchen, table and chairs and Dolly. I’ve always wanted to have that Christmas back again. To be snuggled up in cashmere jumpers, actually craving the heat of the roast turkey and baked food. The way we see it in movies.
But in truth, I love the way we do. The heat of summer creeping into our homes as we sit, PJ shorts and nighties still on, ripping open our presents. Under the shade of oaks and gum trees we enjoy our Christmas lunch, often a hot turkey substituted for prawns and sea food. A game of cricket and swim on the beach, and then to enjoy the sun till 9pm, while neighbours, friends and the other side of the family visit for dessert.
This year is a little different for my family. With impending family feuds bubbling beneath the façade of joy, our family of six, have decided to do Christmas by ourselves. It’s a little scary. We aren’t dysfunctional, but we also aren’t the Brady Bunch. 16 year old Little Big Brother is a terror. Trying to decide what to buy him, I opted for tee-shirt, with skulls, knives and words of death. I think he will like it. Dad is a phlegmatic choleric, so you can imagine his quite control he asserts over all of us. Mum is most likely going through menopause, or she’s slowly losing her mind! I’ll keep a tight rein on the kitchen to avoid melt downs and flip outs. The Sisters, 19, and 14 are a little like Polar Bears. They’re lovely from a distance, but get to close and irritate, and you could end up with a rather large paw smack across your face. And I’m sure, actually, positive, I’m not perfect either.
So perhaps this Christmas will be more memorable than any other with Extended Fighting Family.
This is Christmas. And we wouldn’t do it any different.
I had a white Christmas once. I was 3, living in Dayton Ohio. The only child, spoiled with a Fisher Price kitchen, table and chairs and Dolly. I’ve always wanted to have that Christmas back again. To be snuggled up in cashmere jumpers, actually craving the heat of the roast turkey and baked food. The way we see it in movies.
But in truth, I love the way we do. The heat of summer creeping into our homes as we sit, PJ shorts and nighties still on, ripping open our presents. Under the shade of oaks and gum trees we enjoy our Christmas lunch, often a hot turkey substituted for prawns and sea food. A game of cricket and swim on the beach, and then to enjoy the sun till 9pm, while neighbours, friends and the other side of the family visit for dessert.
This year is a little different for my family. With impending family feuds bubbling beneath the façade of joy, our family of six, have decided to do Christmas by ourselves. It’s a little scary. We aren’t dysfunctional, but we also aren’t the Brady Bunch. 16 year old Little Big Brother is a terror. Trying to decide what to buy him, I opted for tee-shirt, with skulls, knives and words of death. I think he will like it. Dad is a phlegmatic choleric, so you can imagine his quite control he asserts over all of us. Mum is most likely going through menopause, or she’s slowly losing her mind! I’ll keep a tight rein on the kitchen to avoid melt downs and flip outs. The Sisters, 19, and 14 are a little like Polar Bears. They’re lovely from a distance, but get to close and irritate, and you could end up with a rather large paw smack across your face. And I’m sure, actually, positive, I’m not perfect either.
So perhaps this Christmas will be more memorable than any other with Extended Fighting Family.
1 comment:
I'd take your sun over this here rain any day!
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