Because it really is personal…

No one cried, that I know of. The menfolk got to shoot the potato gun and learned that loading it with a smoke bomb is Definitely Good.
Mom wasn’t too badly behaved, as best I could tell. She did decide sometime last week that my sister in law would be required to fold the napkins, so even though SIL was outside watching things explode (Propane makes a bigger flame than MAP gas, btw…in case you ever need to know), and even though Sweet Daddio said “Oh no, I’ll fold the napkins, she’s busy”, Mom tracked SIL down and had her Fold The Napkins, because that was Her Job To Do. There were probably other confrontations (aren’t there always?) that I’m unaware of, but all in all, Mom seemed to behave in a fairly relaxed manner.

It was excellent to see my brother and his family, as it always is.

We went to church- the Service of 9 Lessons and Carols, kind of a Protestant tradition, where the prophecy of Christ’s coming in Isaiah through to the account of the wise men showing up and leaving presents (“ppssst…Mom…what’s myrrh?”) is read and relevant carols sung. I like it. No sermon, just the whole beginning of Christ story and very familiar carols . All the women are wearing red- blazers, sweaters, dresses, and the men with silly Christmas ties on, including someone toward the back on the right wearing a singing tie that I think (I hope) he kept accidentally bumping during the service and we’d hear this tinny, electronic “dashing through the snow…etc” until he realized it was playing and he’d put his hand over it.

After church we hustled home and Mom needed to go to the grocery store because she realized she hadn’t planned a vegetable to go with the ham. So, I went with and told her to go get the eggs she needed and I’d handle the vegetables.

Rootie’s Christmas Eve Eve Vegetables-feeds 10 with some leftovers
1 large sweet potato
2 medium turnips
2 medium beets
1 small bag baby carrots
3 medium leeks
2 portabella mushroom caps
Peel the beets, turnips and sweet potato, and cut everything up into pieces about the size of the baby carrots. Toss in a big bowl with some olive oil and kosher salt. Put in a pan and roast at 450 degrees for 25-30 minutes, until everything is tender. Resist your mother’s temptation to season with anything more esoteric than kosher salt. You know, like…lavender or maybe juniper berries. Or cheese.

I have pictures of the event. There are some of the menfolk trying to blow themselves up, and some of a very carefully orchestrated attempt at spontinaety (spontenaity? spontenaety? the act of being spontaneous, anyway) by Mom, pictures forthcoming.

Now we’re home, all set for tomorrow. #1 said he was coming over this evening, to spend the night because in spite of his being nearly 20, he’s still a kid and wants to get up at 5 am and open presents, then eat himself into a stupor for the rest of the day.

As for me, I intend to keep my nervous system well lubricated. Right now, I have to come up with dry kindling for the firepit, because part of our “kill time before 5 am” campaign involves a fire, marshmallows, and hot apple cider.

The rule at our household is “You can get up anytime you like on Christmas morning, but you are not allowed to leave your bedroom until 5 am.”