'Twas the Night Before Christmas and all Round the House, Not a Creature was Stirring, 'cept One Big A** Mouse!

It seems like just the other day my sister in law was asking me if I was going to update my blog anytime soon. I told her that I really wanted to get one done for the upcoming holiday, especially since I had already missed the previous one. The problem is: the holiday I was referring to was Thanksgiving. How the time flies!

A lot has happened since I last updated this blog. We've had two major holidays, elected the first African-American president, and my oldest brother (Big Nutz) and his wife (Lady Nutz) just gave birth to a bouncing baby boy (Little Nutz.) The whole Nutz clan has been very excited for this occasion, and I'm very happy to report that everything went great. Little Nutz is now home with his parents and big sister (a loveable ball of energy I'm choosing to call Lotta Nutz.)

I'm currently writing this on the evening of Dec 23, and I'm anxiously anticipating tomorrow, which is possibly my favorite day of the year. I have loved Christmas Eve for as long as I can remember. Every year we go to my Grandparents (on my mothers side, so they are not Nutz I'm afraid,) and enjoy an evening of dinner and merryment with all the cousins.

Growing up there was the adults table in the dining room, while us kids were reserved a smaller table in the kitchen. My older brothers would share stories with the older cousins about their high jinks during the course of the year, which usually resulting in the younger cousins lauging until our sides hurt. Every year we would use red and green plastic cups that my grandparents had bought, and at the end of the meal they would wash the cups and put them back into the cupboard until the next Christmas.

After dinner, the adults would go to the family room and visit while us kids would go downstairs into the basement to play pool. Grandpa and Grandma would always tell us not to look around down there, as they would have the family Christmas presents down there all around the room. They were already wrapped, put in boxes separated by family, and covered with sheets, but it was still fun to pretend that we didn't see them.

Pool was always interesting at their house. The ceilings are short and there's cabinets that are within close proximity to the table, so much that you would usually have to open the doors to aim at the ball from that angle (or use the short stick affectionately referred to as "stumpy.") My grandparents basement has older carpet in it that conducts static electrticity at an alarming rate. I'm convinced that you could power a small city just by walking around in that room. We soon discoverd that the metal pool cues we played with made great lightning rods, and before too long the game would take a shocking turn.

Before too long, the adults would call us kids to come upstairs so that we could do the gift exchange. We'd all try to race out of the basement first, knowing that the last person up would have to shut off the lights, usually getting an arc of electricity that would knock a moose off it's feet. Upstairs we would exchange our gifts, then Grandpa would let talk for a few minutes to tell the family how greatful they were for us. Visiting would commence for a little longer, and then we would get ready to leave for the night.

As we were going home, my parents would drive through the neighborhood to see all the Christmas lights that the neighbors had put up. Grandpas always raved about a couple of his neighbors that put on an impressive display, usually the result of one-upsmanship, and we were the beneficiaries. Then we would drive home, with my parents encouraging us to look out the window for Santa. I would swear that I could see Rudolphs nose as we were driving, but I know now that I was seeing a reflection.

When we got home, my parents made us wait at the landing while my Dad poked his head over the railing to make sure that Santa hadn't come yet. When it was safe, we would go to bed and try to fall asleep, anticipating the following morning.

Things have changed a little over the years. We still go to my grandparents house for Christmas Eve, but now that the kids are mostly married (and a few even have kids of their own) the adults table has grown. Now we have two large tables and all of is visit together. The games of pool have all but disappeared, though the table is still there. Now when we go downstairs, we don't close our eyes and try not to look at the presents, but rather we bring the boxes up for my grandpa, who is now in his ninties. Perhaps the most noticable change though, is that my Grandma isn't there anymore. She passed away a couple of years ago, but there still is a part of her when we gather together for the holidays.

I still love to drive through "the meadow" to look at the Christmas lights after we're done, a tradition that my lovely wife has enjoyed as well.

When I was younger, I always looked forward to the next morning. Christmas morning meant that Santa had come, and we would be leaping into a mound of presents; but now that I'm older, I realize that I look more forward to the night before. In the end, I think that memories are the real treasure, but once Mrs. Nutz and I start raising children of our own, we'll be able to start new traditions and build new memories.

We have received one Christmas present already. My other brother and his wife gave us an 8 foot tall inflatable Mickey Mouse which now graces our yard every night. Unfortunately I've never owned an inflatable rodent, and didn't realize that I had to tie him down in several places to make his stand up properly, so each night he inflates at a tilt until I get home and straighten him out.

I'll get it right for next year though.

Merry Christmas!