Christmas memories aren't always good

There's no better way to kick off the holiday season then to remember your worst Christmas ever.
Mine was in 1969.
Since my kids had chicken pox, I had to host the big meal. My brother-in-law (now ex-brother-in-law) turned up drunk while my brother, a patient in Toronto General Hospital awaiting a kidney transplant, called to say he had a toothache and was waiting for a dentist to pull it so he could eat a soft-boiled egg as his only Christmas meal.
The gravy was lumpy, the bird over-cooked and my father was the only one to eat mom's Christmas pudding. The kids scratched their way through the meal, a candle dripped into the butter and my brother-in-law passed out on the couch.
My sister assured my father she'd divorce her husband as soon as he woke up.
After the meal, my parents headed off to Toronto to visit my hospitalized brother while my husband headed to the family farm to milk 40 dairy cattle.
I put the kids to bed and made myself a cup of hot tea. Before I took a sip, the smoke alarm went off. My eldest, a seven-year-old, had snuck out of bed to play with his new cap gun and lit the house on fire.
When the fire trucks arrived, I was out in the driveway trying to keep five kids warm.
Try to top that one.

Comments

[Jack Hauseman]

JOAN - I can't top your Christmas, but I do remember the Christmas at my sister-in-law's house - the self basting turkey being cooked on the rotissary on the bar-be-que, and it catching fire - almost ended up in a 3 alarm blaze - only charred remains for each dinner plate LOLOL! JACK