Every sign says it’s going to be a good night. It’s cold outside, the fire is burning, the family gathered around, every seat filled with hips rubbing against the one. We’ve all come great distances to here, the weather and the roads not being conducive this time of year. But we make the effort, we love being together.
Dad sets the tone of the night by entering with a tray of drinks and trips on his grandson’s toy car, the drinks go flying, alcohol showers on us all. There are shrieks of dismay, brothers lunge to save at least their own beer, the wives watch dismayed as their children turn to them in tears, champagne bubbles in their hair, beer suds sliding down their innocent faces the thought of bathing them again slips into each mum’s mind.
Grandma growls threatens to put Grandad out in the snow, grabs a t-towel and throws it at him to get drying and maybe salvage something of the night. Everyone fusses, dries off, youngest sister giggles at her dad flustered by what has happened. She wraps her arms around him, tells him to sit down, its Christmas and stuff happens. She begins to recount the previous year; everyone chuckles as soon they are all laughing remembering.
Mum brings out the charade box and the real fun of our Christmas night begins.
winter brings us home
this Christmas all together
days full of laughter