One of the things I am looking forward to the most about Christmas tomorrow is our traditional picnic breakfast on Christmas morning. For the past five or so years, my siblings and I have gotten up early to make breakfast for the family. We do the cooking in the upstairs bathroom, and then we eat it on the floor in the room where Carolyn and I used to live. We chose the bathroom so that we could avoid mistakenly glimpsing the tree and presents before our parents were awake on our way to the kitchen downstairs. Usually the tradition involves sneaking the food, electric griddle, dishes, and silverware upstairs on Christmas Eve, and we always have fun trying to figure out how to keep the perishables cold. Last year, I hung a jug of milk out of Tommy’s bedroom window. On Christmas morning the biggest challenge is to keep the Midas puppy quiet while we cook. David insists that breakfast cooked in the bathroom is a little bit disgusting, but the rest of us fight passionately to keep the tradition alive. We will miss James, our expert omelet chef, this year, but I am eager to introduce Matthew to Christmas Picnic Breakfast. My stomach is growling at the thought of it!
Hooray for Christmas and time off from work! It is my first Christmas with my sweetheart, and I am delighted that we will get to spend it hanging out with my family, hanging out with his family, and listening to books on tape for 20 hours in the car.