Saturday, December 5, 2009

25 Days of Christmas: Guest Blogger

As promised, I am presenting a guest blogger to you during this Christmas blogging season. Her name is Brittany and she writes a fabulously witty blog all the way from beautiful Florida! I consider her one of my pals in life. She is the real deal. Hope you enjoy her while I'm taking the LSAT or snoozing away the day away after the LSAT. Happy Christmas and Happy Saturday!
***
Hello, all you Samantha lovers!

I am so honored to be chatting with you all today about my favorite time of the year: Christmas!

I was raised in a house that celebrated every holiday. We decorated; we ate themed meals, and above all else, we instilled and kept traditions.

And Christmas? Christmas was the big grand-daddy holiday of them all.

Christmas required hundreds of decorations, hundreds of themed meals, and hundreds of well-kept traditions.

From as early as I can remember, the whole family took part in the year's grandest celebration; the whole family was required to love Christmas.

We might as well have been indoctrinated.

And like any good indoctrinators, my parents armed themselves with the necessities: the theme songs, the rah-rah Christmas cheers, and the literature.

Yes, the literature.

My family had a laundry-basket, bedecked with holly and pine boughs and all manner of Christmas-y things, piled high with Christmas books.

There were books that told about the birth of Christ; there were books that told about the origin of good old St. Nick; there were books that told of the stories of reindeer, and Santa, and elves.

There was even one that told the story of a family of Honey Bears that celebrated Christmas in a whole manner of wacky ways.

Put simply, they were books that told the story of Christmas.

And I loved them.

My mother and father read them to my two brothers and me throughout the Christmas season, sometimes two or three a day, so as to get them all done by the end of the holiday.

When I started reading solo, around the age of 4, I then read them to myself. Over and over and over again.

I lived for that point in the year when that holly-bedecked basket would come out of the attic and those books were free reign.

I'd begin lobbying for their release on Nov. 1, begging and pleading with the old, "Momma, please can we get the Christmas books down? Just the books? I wanna read 'em! Pleeeaaassseee???"

Still, Mom always held out until the weekend after Thanksgiving.

Except for one time.

I was 6 years old, and I was invited to "The Birthday Party of the Year."

You know, the one at the pretty girl's huge house, where you'd play with clowns and magicians and face-paints and Paint-Your-Own- T-Shirts and get amazing gift bags filled with ridiculous pink plastic toys that broke within 20 minutes of use.

In other words, The. Best. 6-Year-Old. Party. On. Earth.

But on the eve of The. Best. 6-Year-Old. Party. On. Earth., something tragic happened.

I got sick.

Six-year-old, sick-as-a-dog sick.

And my dutiful mother was bound and determined to keep me home and away from all the other healthy 6 year olds.

My life, as I knew it, was over.

After all, I was missing The. Best. 6-Year-Old. Party. On. Earth.

And no whining, complaining and begging could make it right again. My mother wouldn't budge. I was not going, and that was final.

Until, lying on the couch, sickly and all, I found my leverage.

"Mom, if I don't go to the party, can we get the Christmas books down early?"

I have to admit; the woman hemmed and hawed, despite my grave, pathetic state. After all, it was tradition that the treasured books didn't make their attic descent until the weekend after Thanksgiving.

But, eventually, she caved. She extricated the books from the attic.

And not even a peep could be heard about The. Best. 6-Year-Old. Party. On. Earth. that day.

Or the next.

Or the next.

I was too busy, happily buried in my sick bed, reading my Christmas-lovin' head off.

I'll never forget that: The Day The Christmas Books Came Down Early.

That day is one of the reasons I've already started gathering Christmas books for my future children.

Because that basket of Christmas books is one tradition I'll always remember.

So as far as I'm concerned, let the indoctrination begin.
***
Merry Christmas, everyone! Hope this year brings along a few special traditions of your own!

And Sam, I hope you are rockin' that LSAT like you rock around a Christmas tree! You've got this in the bag, my dear friend! I love you to pieces! Thanks for letting me guest post!

- Brittany Ann

1 comment:

Samantha said...

This is such a GREAT idea! I will have to remember this. I want to put books on my baby registry some day.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...

.

.
Hi y'all! The name's Samantha. You can call me Sam if you like. I am a lover to a boy I met at Falls Creek in the summer of 2005, that is a student of Jesus, a Sooner born and Sooner bred and when I die I'll be Sooner dead, Democrat by party, blonde to the core, and oldies but goodies kind of girl.
The Ruby Turtle Hippie Times
<div class="grab-button" margin: 0 auto;"><a href="http://www.therubyturtlehippie.com/" rel="nofollow"><img src="http://i909.photobucket.com/albums/ac293/munchkin_land_designs/BlogDesigns/RubyTurtleTimes/Spring2015/RubyTurtleHippieTimesNewButton1.png" alt="The Ruby Turtle Hippie Times"></div>

Designed By:

Munchkin Land Designs
 
Designed by Munchkin Land Designs • Copyright 2015 • All Rights Reserved