I forgot to specify, in my last Christmas post, that our Christmas lunch was attended by my parents, brother, grandparents, great aunt, uncle, aunt, younger cousin and me. All of these people are dear to my heart, and also know how to have a jolly good time.
Unbeknownst to me, my Dad had established a video camera down my end of the table. As a result, we now have a 2011 Christmas video which includes such highlights as me discoursing on sexist Tamagotchis, my brother knocking over my grandpa’s glass of Champagne, a debate about American versus Australian philanthropy in relation to levels of government support, and someone who shall not be named smacking his own posterior in front of the camera. (Clearly, he knew the camera was there.)
Sadly, the video didn’t capture the red Fortune-Telling Fish telling us that nine out of the ten people at the table were fickle and false (it must be genetic), whereas my twelve year old cousin was in love.
After lunch came presents and, while I doubt you’re interested in seeing every gift I received, I do feel I must show you the wonderful present my parents gave me:
Life is good. However, it’s incumbent on me to mention that when Mum put this heavy box on my lap after telling me to sit down and close my eyes, it smacked into my head in a distinctly non-festive manner. But still, life is good. Bruised, but good.
Oh, I do need to show you one more present. Or, at least, I need to show Laura one more present, because I made her jealous earlier this year for a similar reason. Here’s what my awesome brother got me this Christmas:
With presents we served my newest raw vegan treats, known as either Christmas-spiced or Pain d’Epice Truffles (depending on how fancy you’re feeling). The truffles were eaten merrily, as is customary on Christmas. Sometime later our extended family departed, leaving my parents, brother and I to make our own fun in the following ways:
1. My brother and I had a jamming session, as is inevitable during any visit we have together. We played and sang through old favourites (Merry Christmas [War is Over], Flightless Bird American Mouth, Brick, Bad Moon Rising, Hurt) and songs we’ve never before played together (American Pie, Mama Who Bore Me, Everlong, Don’t Dream It’s Over, Rolling in the Deep). It was glorious.
2. I sat with Mum on the deck, languorously recapping the day’s events, then unthinkingly miaowed back at the next door neighbour’s cat. To my complete surprise, it miaowed back at me. Those of you with cats probably know this is possible, but we’re a dog family, and so the next half an hour involved my brother, mother and I having a miaowed conversation with an unseen cat whilst giggling hysterically.
3. I found a fake moustache leftover from someone’s Christmas cracker, and decided to see how I’d fare as a man.
4. While Dad watched American football after unstacking the dishwasher for the squillionth time because he’s fantastic like that, Mum, E.TeacherLord and I played Boggle. This was a very courageous move on my brother’s part, because of this. However, unfortunately for him, I am still the Boggle Master, and absolutely trounced both him and my mother. Hey, Mum! Remember how I tripled your score?
5. Last but not least on Christmas night came the camera gallivanting, of which you’ve already seen a slow-motion-dancing-glimpse. As our Christmas drew to a close, I thought I’d commemorate its loveliness with one of the most unequivocal symbols of celebration in this here world of ours.
The Heel Click.