My Childhood Christmas
Growing up, my parents would prepare for Christmas Eve. “The Feast of the Seven Fishes” was always on the menu. My grandma and dad would cook their asses off the day before the big event, well into the night of Christmas Eve. It was an amazing process. The party always started around 6 pm. Our Christmas tree was this huge, fake and tacky monstrosity full of candy canes, tinsel and those big bulbous Christmas lights that could produce enough heat to fry a couple of eggs on. Guests would start packing in, some wearing huge fur coats, four inch heels and flimsy low cut dresses along with the strongest musks omitting through every pore. Their diamonds could blind you if you stared long enough. The same “construction crew” would come in with their fancy clothes, all smelling like they showered in Old Spice. I always went to bed smelling that way because everyone would wanna “pick up the baby” and pinch my cheeks or pull my hair - anything to annoy and scare the living bejeebers out of me. ...