Christmas came and went this year in a flurry of activities. Some good some not so great, but overall it was a “good” day. Christmas Eve has always been my dad’s holiday. There are time honored traditions that for me, make Christmas officially begin. We start with communion, a family chili dinner and eventually opening presents. It’s his holiday, he claimed it and it’s special and dear to me.
I spent Christmas day with Mr. Twitter’s parents and family after spending a nice laid back morning with my roommate and dear friend. We made the trek to his hometown not so far away and I was quiet, considering how to institute best behavior practices. So far his parents, I think, like me and I haven’t scared them too much yet. I also had yet to meet his middle sister and was nervous about meeting her and her family.
His family is really nice, and that is said not in a way to say mine isn’t. But we aren’t the typical family. My parents have been divorced since I was young, but they haven’t raised us separately or with division, instead holidays are spent together with them coming together and including respective other halves. My family jokingly refers to it as our “dysfunctional family” and it has worked.
But Mr. Twitter has the typical family. He is the youngest with 3 older sisters. They all have families of their own as there are some years between him and them. And Christmas is just spent together. His mom had kindly bought me a shrimp ring, since I am now adding some fish to my diet and she knew I would have that while she cooked a delish looking pork tenderloin.
I can’t even begin to explain how much Mr. Twitter’s gift to me ment. He, very thoughtfully, gave me an e-reader… the only one I have wanted for forever. And he knew to give it to me before anyone else arrived. It was sweet and means a lot to me. I think he gets me, which means even more.
They exchanged thoughtful gifts and I was embarrassed they included me when I hadn’t brought anything for them except for a few baked goods.
In the end… I think maybe they liked me? Although I never think anyone likes me. Dad’s lady friend told me earlier this week that I have nothing to worry about, that I’m likeable and being silly really. Perhaps I am.