Christmas Vacation: Day 4

Putting up the Christmas tree has always been an "experience" in my family for as long as I can remember. Instead of debating over the placement of lights and ornaments, the annual ruckus extended to include the actual placement of the tree. Crying foul and protesting the "ruin of tradition" my brother and sister refused to help with the tree at all. The result? The Usual. Myself and my Father struggled under my Mother's harsh supervision to put up the tree. The ruin of tradition was secured.

Last night didn't exactly work out as I had planned. My trip to the pub to celebrate a good friend's return from the Emerald Isle turned into a lesson in the important of the essential pre-drinking meal.
Among other highlights of the night, I got to [ was forced to] try a trick straight out of the movies. I flagged a cab and handed him 4 times the usual fare, ".... and Please hurry!" 2 and a half minutes later after traveling at about 120 km/h up a residential street I was home and quietly swearing to myself to never do that again.
...
I woke up in a tangle of blankets, stumbled down into the kitchen to get a glass of orange juice. My Mom stood there smiling. "What?" I asked. Fearing a lecture on "lessons learned" would follow.

"Well see, the Christmas Tradition lives on."

I walked passed her. "Holy shit!", During the course of the night the Christmas tree had given birth or something. There were now 2 Christmas trees, standing at 11 feet and 7 feet tall. One in the spot that had been hotly debated the night before. The other in the traditional space.

"Well holy hell." I said.

"What are you doing today?" She asked.

"Let me guess." I said as I flicked on MacGyver and collapsed onto the couch, the Christmas tree, naked with the exception of lights looming over me. "I've got a date."

A box of ornaments was dumped ontop of me. "Great." I smiled as the whinny, teeny sounds of Ashlee Simpson began to pump throughout the house.

"Christ...... mas"