Christmas Confessions

Well, Chris and I made it through another hectic holiday season and as a bonus – we’re still speaking to eachother!   Yay for communication!   We had a really great visit back to Florida and were able to see all sides of our families for the first time in quite a while.

If there’s one thing I hate, its slide shows of someone else’s vacation.   I don’t even know these people and I have to “oohhh” and “aahhh” over them in pictures.   But if there’s something I hate more than slide shows of someone else’s vacation, its boring stories about someone else’s vacation.   So, if I have the choice (and I do because its my blog), I’ll go with the boring slide show.

Here we go…

We started our trip by visiting my family in The Villages, FL.   I’ve mentioned before that my parents live in a retirement golf community.   I’ve also mentioned before that this is the Cadillac of geriatric Disney Worlds.   They have golf courses out the wazoo.   They get around in golf carts instead of cars (big selling point for Chris).   They eat early and go to bed early.   In short, its my paradise.

In this picture it is Chris, me, my Dad, my Mom, my sister, Ginny, and her boyfriend John Michael.   And for all you avid readers out there, this is the same boyfriend that I went down to point and laugh at this past summer when he met my parents for the first time.   He came back for more, and he gave me a Christmas present so he’s okay in my book.

After our few days in The Villages, we said goodbye to my family and headed north to our hometown of Gulf Breeze, FL.   (Note:   High school sweethearts have the same hometowns.)   We stayed for one night so that we could go to Chris’ family’s big Christmas party.   I didn’t get any pictures of this event because I was too busy showing off my baby bump to anyone who wanted to squeal at it.   But picture any large family reunion, throw in some wine and beer (and probably a hidden flask or two), add in a few ham roll-ups and meatballs on toothpicks and you’ve pretty much just painted the right picture.

We left the next morning on Christmas Eve and headed even north-er (my high school geography teacher is hanging his head in shame right now) to Millbrook, AL where Chris’ Mom’s parents live.   We had a little family reunion with that side of the family there for a few days.   Some of them I had either never met before or had only met once at our wedding, which was a blur.   So it was nice to actually spend time with this side of the family.

After Christmas lunch, we packed up and drove back to Chris’ Dad’s house in Gulf Breeze.   Our hometown.   Keep up, people!   Back at Chris’ Dad’s house we ran into his Granddaddy out in his front yard, shooting doves.   I would apologize to any of you that are offended by the hunting of birds and small animals, but we’re from a small town in the South.   Its what we do.   And Granddaddy does it well.   He has a recliner in his little shed outback where he sits all day smoking his cigars and shooting dove from his chair.   He used to have a cat that would retrieve the dove for him, but Kooter died last year so now Granddaddy has to actually get up and fetch his own dove.   When he feels like it.   And he usually doesn’t ever feel like it.

After we had Christmas with the family, it was time for the 8th Annual Chris Brown Christmas Party.   Also known as the Guys Christmas Party.   Also known as Better Bring Your Big Boy Pants and Some One Dollar Bills.   Every year, Chris throws a big Christmas party at his Dad’s house for their old group of friends from high school.   It originally started out as a guys only party and was the one night a year where the guys got together without their girlfriends/significant others/floosies.   They bought lots of beer.   Dug a giant hole for a fire pit.   Lit Christmas trees on fire.   Ate meat right out of the fire.   And they bet on just about anything – how far they could throw an empty beer can, who could roll a wadded up dollar closest to a bottle cap, who would win the next game of pool.   It was a night of debachery and bachelorhood.   Now, most of them are married or living with, like, real grown up women and so they have kindly opened the door to include girls at the party.   In all honesty, its not that fun for girls.   I get scared when they poor gasoline on the Christmas tree and light it on fire.   I get pissy when someone spills beer on me.   I don’t like raw meat.   And I’m too cheap to gamble.   But I usually hang in there for a little while and then head off to bed and leave them to their all-night long tribute to high school and all things male.

So, that was our Christmas vacation.   A little golf, a little travel, a little hunting, a little gambling, and a whole lot of family.   What could be better???