So Christmas eve was at my sister’s mother in law, a tiny ranch style house in Howard Beach, Queens. We were 12 adults, two toddlers, an ornery housecat, a lot of tchtkche crap, some Christmas music, a dinner that was late but good. My sister’s husband’s brother (who drinks heavily and used to be my holiday drinking partner) kept goading me to drink. He was kind of angry I wouldn’t do after dinner shots of Limoncello with him.
Christmas day was at my sister’s place in Garden City. Once again we were 12 adults, two toddlers, a lot of things that “Santa” left for the kids, a tree, a dinner that was beyond late, but it was worth it to see my sister finally use her oven.
I got more presents than I deserve. The clothes my mother gave me are all too tight, “to motivate you to pose weight” she said. The three handbags she gave me are a non-sexual wet dream come true (because I don’t just dream about sex, I dream about having the sort of bag that would enable me to walk down 18th Avenue and let all those bitches have it), the macys gift card my sister and her husband gave me was thoughtful, and I like the tickets to see Colin Quinn my other sister gave me. All in all, it’s an embarrassment of riches.
The highlight of the day is when I was playing with my niece and nephew. My niece was so cute in her dress and my nephew laughed and he’s finally (at nearly 21 months old) starting to talk.