Merry Christmas Eve-Eve, poppets! I think it's time for a holiday-themed Audience Participation Day, don't you?
Yes, of course you do. Because you think what I tell you to think, OBVIOUSLY.
So! Let us speak of holiday traditions. When I was growing up, my family's Christmas went like this: Christmas Eve we got to open all the gifts from out-of-town relatives. Since we were a military family and never spent the holidays with any extended family, there were usually at least gifts from my grandparents to open. Then, greed momentarily satisfied, to bed we would toddle.
On Christmas morning there were stockings to dig through. Incidentally, Santa always brought my family quite a lot of chocolate, but here, Santa tends to stuff my stocking with things like nuts still in their shells and dried figs. Is Santa trying to make me eat more fiber or something? And where does that fat dude get off trying to non-verbally lecture ME about nutrition? Punk.
Right, so . . . stockings first. Then we would open all the gifts. All at once, if you will remember our previous discussion of this practice. Christmas breakfast always included monkey bread*, which was made with the biscuits in a can for maximum processed, soft unwholesomeness. Because really, if you're going to cover the biscuits in a pound of butter and sugar, does it really matter if the biscuits under the candy coating are less than wholesome? No.
And then we would have a big dinner in the afternoon with ham and things. Plus, there was church in there too. Which probably deserves more than just a passing mention at the end of this list, as the religious thing is actually the origin of the whole Christmas celebration, rather than monkey bread. Although you could totally have a religious moment with monkey bread. All that sugar could induce holy visions, I'm pretty sure.
Your turn! Tell me what you always did for holidays growing up. Or what you do now. Which would be a different post for me entirely.
* Wikipedia, that font of all totally accurate knowledge, tells me that monkey bread is also called "pinch-me cake." I find that hilarious, for many reasons.