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Last Years Christmas
Christmas every year is all the same. It gets boring after awhile. Of course there are the different gifts, and the different girls my father invites to spend Christmas with us each year, but other than that it is all dreadfully the same.
It is the night before Christmas as I sit in the uncomfortable chair at my step dad’s aunt’s party tent. As I look around watching the gifts be passed out I see all my great step aunts and uncles. My little brother Mark is over playing with the younger kids while my sister sits with our older step cousins looking mad to just have to be there, like usual. I walk into the kitchen where my step grandmother and her sister are preparing the food. My mom, sister, and I never really felt like they cared for us to much, but we never let it get to us. I go and sit by my mother as everyone tears apart their gifts. Just like I expected it is some kind of gift card. Oh well, it is better then the picture frame with a picture of her setting the table she gave all of us last year. I can’t help but let my mind wonder, wondering if my best friend Carline was having a better time. I am sure she was. It is time to leave after hours of putting on that fake cheery smile. I leave the cold party tent hoping tomorrow will be different.
I wake up to my annoying brother screaming for me to wake up. Apparently, he wanted to open some presents and was tired of waiting for me. I roll out of bed, literally, and stretch my arms while adjusting my yellow plaid pajama pants at the same time. I run into the living room greedily ready to open my presents. Of course my sister is already there, eyeing the little box that she already knew was an itunes card. I plop down on our leather couch still in a sleepy daze, but ready to tear into my first box. Poor little box never saw it coming.
An hour or so later there is multiple wrapping on the floor covering where there used to be hardwood. Happy with all the beautiful gifts I received. My mom gets up to make the, I guess you could say traditional, Cinnabon Cinnamon rolls. I expected that one for sure. While I am eating my dad calls to wish us a merry Christmas and to tell us he will be there to pick us up in an hour. I drop my fork and run to the shower, I had only an hour to make myself look at least somewhat attractive! I grab the new clothes I received from the couch and hightailed it to the bathroom. I was straightening my hair when my dad rolled up in his car.
One year ago my dad had surprised my sister and I with this beautiful apartment downtown and this was going to be our second Christmas there. I walked up the stairs carrying my present I got for my dad, I never knew what to get him. I reach the top of the stairs, surprisingly I do not see my dads current girlfriend there. It was a pleasant surprise. You see, my dad was always bringing these young girls that seemed nice at first, but after awhile turned into like the evil stepmother on Cinderella. Time flew by as we opened our presents, again. I could kind of tell my dad didn’t really care for my lame gift, but he did a pretty good job hiding it. I apologized and told him he could take it back if he wanted, but he insisted he loved it and smiled.
I guess you could say it is the same every year. It can always be predictable, but that is what I love about Christmas the most. Not the presents, or the amazing food, or even the whole two weeks from school. It is the fact that for an entire day I know I am going to spend that special day with the people I love, and care about. It took me years to figure it out, but better later then never.
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