I have a least favorite day. Do you? Mine may be surprising. Wanna know what it is?
Christmas eve.
Yeah, really. Of course it’s a favorite of many of those who prefer the anticipation of an event than the event itself. Some people are like that. They enjoy the build up to something more than the actual thing. Weird, right? Nah, sometimes waiting for the thing is better than the thing itself.
Anyway.
I remember one Christmas Eve my brother and I were shooting fireworks. He lit a smoke bomb. You know, one of those colored balls that spew colored smoke. He then calls my name, I turn around and happen to be inhaling at the same time. I find a blue smoke bomb directly under my nose as I pull in a lung full of the blue air.
Well, I coughed for the next hour. And everytime I breathed I could taste that funky smelling smoke.
The next year, we were out in the woods that surrounded our home when we found an old tree stand. It was a few short 2x4s nailed to the trunk of a tree leading up to a small platform about 20 feet up. It was old and rotten and rickety. Of course my brother forced me to climb it when I didn’t want to. So I whined and complained and cried but he threatened to cause me physical harm. Better the imagined physical harm of falling out of the tree than the for-sure-getting-my-ass-beat harm from him.
I finally climbed up there but it was a very traumatic experience.
The next year my dad and I were out hunting. He left me sitting on a tree stump on the edge of a field. After about 15 minutes I heard coming from the woods across the field what could only be interpreted my by young mind as a huge bear crashing through a creek coming to eat me. Never mind that there aren’t any bears that far south in Mississippi, I was going to die a horrible gruesome death BEFORE OPENING MY CHRISTMAS PRESENTS.
After a couple minutes I couldn’t take it anymore and went to find dad. As I rounded the corner on the old logging road, I saw a body lying on the 4-wheeler. Terrified someone had decided to die on our 4-wheeler or a grisly murder had taken place right there on my ATV, I cautiously approached.
Quickly I realized the body looked familiar, in fact, it was dad! I walked quickly over and he sat up. “Hard to take a nap ’round here with them beavers slapping their tails in the creek over there.”
I was relieved for more than one reason. I still had both parents alive AND I’d get to open my presents in the morning.
These are just a few reasons of why I’m not a fan of Christmas Eve. I just never know what’s going to happen. Nothing serious has happened in the last few years but I’m always alert and ready on the 24th of December.
I broke my arm on Christmas Eve.
My older brother started a “Santa watching club” that involved most of the siblings up in a high tree. To be a true member, we had to swing off a branch and dismount like a gymnist from the parallel bars. Needless to say, I screwed the landing and cracked my arm with my head.
The best part was having it reset without any pain killers. The doctor said that if i was given anything, I would have to stay overnight in the hospital for observation (since I was like 7). I took the pain like a man. My dad practically fainted. Santa signed my cast while I was asleep. The end.
By the way. Those look like Grizzly Bears. You need to put a photo of black bears (since they are in Mississippi). They can still maul you, though (see news about recent attacks in the Smokies).
My sisters and I used to always eat at least one Christmas eve meal at the gathering of my dad’s family, which is mostly comprised of criminals- druggies, people who have been to prison, and people who have been burning down their houses for insurance money for the past 3 decades because they were trained by the military to be able to do it and leave no trace. None of them have internet though, don’t worry. And if they do and are reading this I’m referring to the others, of course.
Anyway one year my dad, sister, a bunch of others and I got food poisoning from a bad batch of dressing. Bleck.
So, you’ve been shot with a bb by your brother, he completely wrecked your nasal cavity and forced you to have post traumatic stress disorder because of the tree stand climb. And I thought I was tough on MY little sister!!! Well, I was…but that’s another tale!
The yuletide is bad for me too. This past year was the capper, though. I was broke, breaking up with my girlfriend (seriously, we actually finally broke on Christmas morning!), and my Christmas Eve meal was a cold burrito and potato log from a truck stop. Santa left a steaming pile of feces in my stocking, and I haven’t reconciled my feelings for the fat bastard yet.