When I was 16, I went through the time tested train ride to my dads in Brooklyn from my moms in the city. So upon arriving at my dads, I cover my eyes and run into my room. Without turning on the lights, I take off my pants, throw on pajama's with penguins on them (My christmas uniform) and lay down under the covers. A few minutes later my dad walks in and yells "IT'S CHRISTMAS!!!"
"OH MY GOD YAY!"
"MERRY CHRISTMAS!"
"MERRY CHRISTMAS DAD!"
I run out of my room to the tree in the living room and we gather around with my sister and step-mom. At this point, she was 2 and a half months old. You can imagine how excited how excited a 2 year old, barely aware of her own hands, was for the pairs of socks and Legos she got. Yet with every present "LOOK LOLA! A T-shirt! OOOOOOOOH!" (I shouldn't mock though, because it was a cute t-shirt, I know, I bought it). And what you may ask was my big gift that year? A Led Zeppelin t-shirt. It kinda kicked @$$ and with the CD I got with it, I was jamming to Led Zeppelin and watching old videos of them all night long.
Now, this might not seem like, much, but honestly, my family is pretty tame around the holidays. I avoid the giant Chrsitmas party that everybody goes to Chicago for, and I just spend most of the day eating cookies and laying in bed. I am ever the rebel and Christmas proves it.
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