Christmas Eve. We just managed to get the lights up. We can't find our very modest Nativity - Joseph and Mary with a lantern - looking stooped, lost and afraid.
We all gather tommorrow for the dreaded Christmas extended family dinner (the horror, the horror).
My first son just finished second year uni. He can't get good grades but can debunk Christmas for you
My second son, who just finished high school and did okay, isn't talking to me after I kicked him out of the house two nights ago for slapping his very gentle younger brother in the face. I cornered him in the kitchen and threw a plastic medicine bottle at him, whatever came to hand. I hit him right in the face at point blank range with full force before showing him the door, in the spirit of the season you understand
He snuck back into the house later and now wants an apology, like a true gen Z, for my invasion of his personal space, reading his school results letter without his permission after he threw it on the floor the day before (I'm in the hole for about 250K on his education so I think I'm entitled), and once, some years ago, giving him a novel about mermaids as a birthday gift, which he thought insulting, but never actually bothered to read
I'm a terrible Dad apparently, all this reported by his Mum, who is now go between, as so often before with four sons. He is a swimmer and twice as big as me now - all lean muscle, broad shoulders and the V physique (we paid for that too). Fortunately I still have the drop on him, the moral force, the righteous rage of the old testament father on my day. Or as I put it more bluntly to him as he scurried out the door giving me the bird - there is only one rooster in this house. And my aim is still true.
I wish my own father would stop talking about me. His crazy talk gets worse every year.
My mother has a mild form of dementia and says just whatever comes into her head - usually what Dad is saying behind the scenes, which can be useful if alarming. She likes to tell Mrs Horse she is fatter than last year or some other silly hurtful thing without meaning to. So Mrs Horse isn't coming this year. She prefers to remember my Mum as she once was.
My brother is bankrupt but believes pyramid selling schemes like Amway will be his financial salvation. He uses Christmas Day to recruit his nieces and nephews for his sales "force", or just to buy amazing soap powder at incredible prices. We all find the merchandise stashed in the boots of our cars when the gathering is over.
My other brother is a rock but too silent to be diverting on Christmas Day.
My first sister makes barbed comments once she has had a few drinks. She should be the life of the party tommorrow....
My kid sister tastefully hosts the gathering but lives miles out. I mainly go for her sake....
The in-law spouses are mostly sane and likeable. I don't know how we did it.
Except for my bankrupt former pro-footballer brother, who is also divorced and may or may not be accompanied to the family gathering by an inappropriately dressed voluptuary with a screaming biological clock, who will offend all the married ladies just by being there, and then go on to ruin the annual family Christmas photo by never appearing again. I for one look forward to who appears on his arm, as a surprise, even shocking element in an otherwise very dull event. Next year he won't be able to remember her name either.
The nieces and nephews are turning out nicely. That's always good to see. Although they too are getting bored by the family dinner, which hasn't changed format since they were little, in spite of my best efforts. To please my demented parents it remains frozen in time. One of them is flamboyantly and exuberantly gay, but this is put down in the family circle to his being theatrical and talented at school. I had the honour of getting his Kris Kringle present this year, so I gave him a miniature of Focault's pendulum. I know he likes science.
I'll probably get three sons, intrepid social adventurers in my book, to the family gathering this year. This will get the Christmas day gossip off to a flying start, where are the others Horsie? The temptation to tell the truth, that the others were far too sensible to attend, may prove too great, but probably won't
One of them, the big hearted one who got slapped by his older brother for nothing, is good at talking to my crazy Dad, which means I don't have to that much. It's painful to watch someone you once looked up to deteriorate as the years take their toll. The boys tell me his latest mad theories later and we all have a good laugh at Pop's expense. Muslims have featured prominently in recent years. We know he is not his old ever-optimistic self anymore, so we are laughing more with him than at him. Otherwise you'd cry.
But as Bruce Springsteen put it so well - a man turns his back on his family - he just ain't no good.
On the plus side, I got all the presents done and they are sitting under the tree
We'll probably only get the two younger sons to church on Christmas day. But hey, that's better than none. My oldest just said he would join us, so things are looking up.
I'm usually hoping for a Christmas family miracle
But usually don't get it 
I bought a hand-painted icon of the Our Lady of Perpetual Help and a last supper, beautiful things I've always wanted, to cheer myself up...maybe the icon is working...let's see what happens with son number two tommorrow..
At least Mrs Horse loves me
I was looking at some old photos the other day. She was, and still is at least in my eyes, an extraordinary natural beauty, never wore any cosmetics, ever. She didn't need to or want to, maybe just some lip gloss if we went out. So it was probably fortunate she always looked good now that I think of it!
I'll see my Godmother, who is nearly 90, go to her house, which is full of joy and peace, and happy memories. She still loves me too
Earlier tonight I saw an old man shuffle past our house, head down with obvious neck problems, who will probably have a painful but hopefully not lonely Christmas. Being alone would be worse than the worst family gathering at Christmas time
A lady just went by and pointed out our Christmas lights out to her husband. That made it all worthwhile, getting those lights up at last. All the Laurel and Hardy moments with my two youngest sons as we showed none of us has any mechanical aptitude. I hope the lights cheered the old man too!
There is still a lot to be thankful for folks. But did I really fly in for this?
Compliments of the season to you all
We all gather tommorrow for the dreaded Christmas extended family dinner (the horror, the horror).
My first son just finished second year uni. He can't get good grades but can debunk Christmas for you

My second son, who just finished high school and did okay, isn't talking to me after I kicked him out of the house two nights ago for slapping his very gentle younger brother in the face. I cornered him in the kitchen and threw a plastic medicine bottle at him, whatever came to hand. I hit him right in the face at point blank range with full force before showing him the door, in the spirit of the season you understand

He snuck back into the house later and now wants an apology, like a true gen Z, for my invasion of his personal space, reading his school results letter without his permission after he threw it on the floor the day before (I'm in the hole for about 250K on his education so I think I'm entitled), and once, some years ago, giving him a novel about mermaids as a birthday gift, which he thought insulting, but never actually bothered to read

I'm a terrible Dad apparently, all this reported by his Mum, who is now go between, as so often before with four sons. He is a swimmer and twice as big as me now - all lean muscle, broad shoulders and the V physique (we paid for that too). Fortunately I still have the drop on him, the moral force, the righteous rage of the old testament father on my day. Or as I put it more bluntly to him as he scurried out the door giving me the bird - there is only one rooster in this house. And my aim is still true.
I wish my own father would stop talking about me. His crazy talk gets worse every year.
My mother has a mild form of dementia and says just whatever comes into her head - usually what Dad is saying behind the scenes, which can be useful if alarming. She likes to tell Mrs Horse she is fatter than last year or some other silly hurtful thing without meaning to. So Mrs Horse isn't coming this year. She prefers to remember my Mum as she once was.
My brother is bankrupt but believes pyramid selling schemes like Amway will be his financial salvation. He uses Christmas Day to recruit his nieces and nephews for his sales "force", or just to buy amazing soap powder at incredible prices. We all find the merchandise stashed in the boots of our cars when the gathering is over.
My other brother is a rock but too silent to be diverting on Christmas Day.
My first sister makes barbed comments once she has had a few drinks. She should be the life of the party tommorrow....
My kid sister tastefully hosts the gathering but lives miles out. I mainly go for her sake....
The in-law spouses are mostly sane and likeable. I don't know how we did it.
Except for my bankrupt former pro-footballer brother, who is also divorced and may or may not be accompanied to the family gathering by an inappropriately dressed voluptuary with a screaming biological clock, who will offend all the married ladies just by being there, and then go on to ruin the annual family Christmas photo by never appearing again. I for one look forward to who appears on his arm, as a surprise, even shocking element in an otherwise very dull event. Next year he won't be able to remember her name either.
The nieces and nephews are turning out nicely. That's always good to see. Although they too are getting bored by the family dinner, which hasn't changed format since they were little, in spite of my best efforts. To please my demented parents it remains frozen in time. One of them is flamboyantly and exuberantly gay, but this is put down in the family circle to his being theatrical and talented at school. I had the honour of getting his Kris Kringle present this year, so I gave him a miniature of Focault's pendulum. I know he likes science.
I'll probably get three sons, intrepid social adventurers in my book, to the family gathering this year. This will get the Christmas day gossip off to a flying start, where are the others Horsie? The temptation to tell the truth, that the others were far too sensible to attend, may prove too great, but probably won't

One of them, the big hearted one who got slapped by his older brother for nothing, is good at talking to my crazy Dad, which means I don't have to that much. It's painful to watch someone you once looked up to deteriorate as the years take their toll. The boys tell me his latest mad theories later and we all have a good laugh at Pop's expense. Muslims have featured prominently in recent years. We know he is not his old ever-optimistic self anymore, so we are laughing more with him than at him. Otherwise you'd cry.
But as Bruce Springsteen put it so well - a man turns his back on his family - he just ain't no good.
On the plus side, I got all the presents done and they are sitting under the tree

We'll probably only get the two younger sons to church on Christmas day. But hey, that's better than none. My oldest just said he would join us, so things are looking up.
I'm usually hoping for a Christmas family miracle


I bought a hand-painted icon of the Our Lady of Perpetual Help and a last supper, beautiful things I've always wanted, to cheer myself up...maybe the icon is working...let's see what happens with son number two tommorrow..
At least Mrs Horse loves me

I'll see my Godmother, who is nearly 90, go to her house, which is full of joy and peace, and happy memories. She still loves me too

Earlier tonight I saw an old man shuffle past our house, head down with obvious neck problems, who will probably have a painful but hopefully not lonely Christmas. Being alone would be worse than the worst family gathering at Christmas time

A lady just went by and pointed out our Christmas lights out to her husband. That made it all worthwhile, getting those lights up at last. All the Laurel and Hardy moments with my two youngest sons as we showed none of us has any mechanical aptitude. I hope the lights cheered the old man too!
There is still a lot to be thankful for folks. But did I really fly in for this?

Compliments of the season to you all

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