Twas the Weeks before Christmas
As we prepare to celebrate Christmas
once again, it reminds me of a time when I spent with my family not long ago.
It all started off innocently enough when I went to help my sister shop on
Black Friday. I was twenty three at the time and had just returned home from
studying abroad in Libya, so my sibling was rather excited to spend some time
with me. That morning we got up bright and early so as to get to the stores as
soon as possible. It was at this point where I realized my mistake in agreeing
to go with her. Even though we were outside the store at 4 am there was already
a line long enough to span across three parking lots. This led to our second
problem. There was absolutely nowhere to park. We decided to park in the
parking lot of a nearby Burger King that was empty. To brighten my day even
more I realized that I had stepped on an especially slick patch of ice. I had
of course realized this as I was in the process of falling down upon it. When I
got up I could already feel a lump forming on the back of my head. After such a
horrendous start of the day I had hoped it would soon become better. I was
wrong.
After waiting in line for an hour and a
half we were finally allowed into the store. There was such a mad rush of
people running into the store it intensified the pain I was already in for
falling on the ice. My sister had yet to show any sympathy or caring at all
towards me as she was so focused on shopping the only thing that would detract
her from it would have been a sale on something else. This would not have
normally bothered me except for the fact that I was expected to carry
everything. By the time it was over I was holding a flat screen TV, three sets
of Legos and an assortment of clothing and useless garbage that no one needs,
but seems to want for no discernable reason. I was glad when I was told that we
would be leaving the store. My happiness was short lived when I realized that
we were going to multiple other stores. The rest of the day then proceeded to
pass by in a blur of shopping bags and waiting in line for upwards of an hour
at a time. My only rest was taking her from one place to another. My rest soon
turned into discomfort when she decided that her son needed a bookshelf and I
had to cram in into the car, so for the remainder of the day I had a bookshelf
obscuring most of my vision as well as it occasionally slipping and falling
onto me. Needless to say I was glad when the day came to an end. However, my
holiday plight was not yet over.
The next day was even more eventful.
I had to drive to the airport and pick up my crazed uncle. The drive there was
calm enough and I allowed myself to think that maybe my uncle was as crazy as I
made him out to be. I soon realized my folly when I saw him coming of the
plain. He was about five foot six at the time and would have been un-assuming
enough had it not been for the bear pelt he was wearing along with the raccoon
shorts. That in combination with the crocs he was wearing on his feet
re-established my belief that he was indeed crazy. He then proceeded to talk to
me in jive regardless of that fact that he was a fifty six year old white guy.
What made the encounter worse was that the moment he saw me he gave me a hug
that last three minutes and would not take his arm off my shoulder. Those that
were around us gave us weird looks the entire time. Then things became even
worse when we reached baggage claim. I was about to ask him which bag was his
when I saw what appeared to be a full alligator coming down the track. I then
realized that that was his bag. I then proceeded to act like I didn’t know him,
but he made this task impossible due him referring to me as Nancy until I
responded to him. So I quickly took him to my car parked outside when I then
realized that it had been towed for illegal parking. I was then forced to ride
the bus with my uncle and his full alligator suitcase. I then became aware of a
rather disgusting smell and soon realized it was my uncle’s suitcase. The
alligator smelled as if it had only recently been killed. When I asked my uncle
about it he responded by saying that it had indeed been killed only three weeks
ago and he had it made into a suitcase. When we finally arrived at the hotel my
uncle was staying at I gladly bade him farewell and went home. The following
week proved to be just as eventful as the last one.
A week after Thanksgiving was the
day of the family Christmas party. Since I was staying with my parents it
proved futile to try and talk my way out of attending the party. I was given
the task of retrieving my uncle from his hotel and since my car was still
impounded I was forced to take my father’s scooter. When I arrived at the hotel
my uncle gave me a strange look, but got on the scooter without asking. I was
lucky that it was a rather large scooter and it had two seats so my uncle
didn’t have to hold onto me as much as he would have had it been a normal sized
scooter. The ride back was both awkward an uncomfortable, but luckily did not
last long. Upon arriving back to my parents’ home I realized that my entire
family had already arrived. After parking the scooter and getting inside, I was
forced to wade through a seeming innumerable amount of toddlers I do not know
and highly doubt I am related to any of them. Since I came from such a large
family I also met many second and third cousins who I don’t recall ever meeting
before. Shortly after meeting these so called relatives we ate dinner and I
managed to slip away to the back porch. The night air was chilly, but I
welcomed it over the smell of sweat puke that seemed to accompany the small
children that were running about. I was soon joined by my crazy uncle. I was
about to leave when I noticed that he was different and didn’t seem as crazy as
he normally did. He told me thanks for picking him up and told me how lonely he
was up on the mountain on which he lived and I knew how he felt. Even though I
don’t usually enjoy spending time with most of my family, I do miss them when
we are apart.
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