Monday, December 21, 2009

The Ghost of Christmas Past

Last night I watched A Christmas Carol, the good one, from the eighties when everything was real quality like Munchichis and My Little Ponies.

Anyway, as is the case for most of you I'm sure, Christmas has a special nostalgic quality for me. As a kid, there is no better time than Christmas time. There's like a month-long build-up where you get a piece of chocolate everyday from the advent calendar, school tapers off to making contruction paper chains and practicing songs for the Annual Christmas "show," and you get to scour the Sears catalog picking out everything you could possibly want (and know there's a good chance you're going to get at least some of it.) Throw in Christmas cookies and no school for two weeks and boom, the most wonderful time of the year.

In honor of A Christmas Carol, I took a little tour through my own Christmases of yore.


















Baby smirk. At the tender age of two, I am already skeptical of this whole Santa Claus business with a look that says, "Whatever lady, let's wrap this up so I can crap my pants and hit the KayBee toys to let "Santa" know what I will expect under the tree come Christmas morning.



















Ahhh, lederhosen and black knee socks, Christmas sure ain't what it used to be, I tell you what.




















I have several Santa pictures with me in this pose. I have no idea what that's about, possibly my attempt at being girly. Also, I'm pretty sure my shell-shocked little brother is attempting to flip off the camera. We're very pious, my family.













Christmas: The Teen Years. Decked out in prison stripes and my attempt at a New Wave haircut, I announce to everyone that Christmas is so, like, totally lame. (Please note: Steph and Steve's matching gray stonewash jeans.)














Okay I'm not in this shot, but felt I must include what we lovingly referred to for years as our Charlie Brown Christmas tree. As you can see, my mom (who probably caps off at 5'2'' wearing a top hat) is kneeling, and yet still manages to clear half the tree's height.



















This one has nothing whatsoever to do with Christmas, yet still, it begs to be included. This is me paying a visit to McGruff the Crime dog. I have no idea why he was taking visitors or why they chose a large wicker chair (seriously, try being a serious crimefighter in wicker), but I'm forced to wonder what costume designer interpreted McGruff as a shady canine druglord wearing too-short pants and orthopedic shoes. (Special thanks to mom and grandma for the constant vigilance in keeping my knee socks pulled all the way up.)

I can't wait to look back on Christmas pictures years from now and laugh, What the hell? When did I have pink hair? Is that a hoodie? And slouchy boots? My god, what were we thinking?

Happy Holidays everyone!

5 comments:

Alisa said...

(cue violins) I don't have any pictures of me with Santa OR McGruff because I was terrified of anyone in costumes... so I enjoyed living vicariously through yours. They just don't make stonewash like they used to though, do they?

Steve said...

WOW... Really? Who in their wrong mind let you hold on to all of these photos???? I can understand your wanting to share your past with all of your readers but do you have to drag me down too? And for the record I loved those jeans, as they were perfect for sliding down aisleways singing random Christmas songs (even though it was only July).

Hampers said...

Like your blog on Christmas. Christmas season is a magically special time when family and friends come together to celebrate. Have a wonderful Christmas.

Kornopolous said...

Please, please promise your friends, your husband..and your son, that you will not put any pink ribons in his hair for Santa...satan maybe..but not Santa

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