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12/09/2006: Candy Cane Flavored Candy!

The Advent Calendar has been updated for December 9th. (And the 8th, too, if you weren't around last night.) Happy ADST & SNT!

As usual, I've been picking up every "special holiday edition" candy I can find, and I've noticed a severe upswing in the "shit flavored like candy canes" department. With so many of the candy cane varieties out now being patterned after Sprees and Starburst, it's nice to see that some companies remember that the holidays are supposed to taste like peppermint…even if we would prefer that they tasted like blastin' berry cherry.

Hubba Bubba's Bubble Tape redecorates for the season with a new "Holiday Stripe" offshoot. Don't be misled: Even the package says it's candy cane flavored. It's also not very striped - I'd consider this one more of a "Holiday Powdered" affair. Kind of tastes like an unflavored gum base lightly dusted with peppermint powder, and no, that's not the greatest thing in the world, but it's not the worst thing, either. There's no difference in the gum color or flavor between the red and green packages — they just wanted to give good Christians their choice between Jesus's favorite colors.

Similarly marketed are new Candy Cane Pop Rocks, enabling us to "taste the explosion" and celebrate Christmas simultaneously. I'll say this: They're the most unique Pop Rocks I've ever tasted. The candy consists of red and white bits, crumbled into large enough chunks to make me feel that I'm actually gobbling up a real, smashed up candy cane. They taste like they should taste, so anyone's opinion of the stuff is contingent on how much they like candy canes.

I thought I'd have more to say about candy cane flavored candy, or that I'd at least use the phrase "candy cane flavored candy" enough times to make this blurb seem bigger, but I think it's done. Instead, survey time!

Survey Sez: Let's discuss some of our holiday memories, but since we've done similar/exact surveys before, let's stick to the weirder, more obscure ones that don't immediately spring to mind when the question is posed.

I'll start. Like I've mentioned before, my family really celebrates Christmas on Christmas Eve, and Christmas Day has rarely meant much to me. (Most of the time it's depressing, because the party's more or less over.) As a kid, I took advantage of this fact by spending most Christmas Days at my best friend/closeby neighbor's house. They didn't do jack on the Eve, but the place was hot hot hot on Christmas Day. Our families were good friends but were nonetheless very different from each other, and I loved seeing the completely alien ways in which they'd boogie down. Like, everyone played pinochle, and people actually sung Christmas songs. My family only did stuff like that if it was a comedic setup to make fun of pinochle and caroling.

They were very eclectic. They had really crappy Christmas decorations, but crappy in an awesome way, and they were everywhere. Like, they'd hang a 20' Budwesier Christmas Clydesdales subway poster on their living room wall without a trace of irony or gag. They'd look at old photo albums and watch home movies. There was a wholesomeness to it all that was really attractive; not that my family was lousy at being a family, but we were better at just having fun. My favorite memory of going over their house for Christmases past? The After Eight course.

At 8:01 PM on the nose, my friend's mother would waltz out to the dining room table with this huge plate of After Eight mint candies. Everyone made such a big deal about it. "It's after eight o'clock! It's after eight o'clock! Time for dem mints!" I loved it.

I always made sure to go home early, lest I still be there when any of their family decided to leave, putting me in the awkward position of having to kiss people goodbye when I didn't really know them and when they didn't really know me. I may say hi to strangers more during Christmastime, but fuck that weird old lady if she thinks she's getting her cheek pecked just because we're sharing a party.

Then I'd go home, eat leftovers and assemble all of my gifts on the bed, soaking in their brilliance and making sure their sum mass was more impressive than anything I'd seen on my friend's bed hours earlier. It usually worked out that way, because I was a spoiled brat.

Incidentally, I put up an Amazon Wishlist, because shamelessness is the next big thing for '07.

I'm Italian and have noticed that alot of us do the big Chirstmas eve thing. Fish is almost always involved. We used to open our presents at midnight.
However being the only child in the family when I was much younger, my grandmother would sneak me like two gifts that would keep me occupied.

i bought four 4-packs of the candy cane jones soda not only because i thought it'd be an interesting flavor but also because they had lawn flamingos on the labels. so far i've only had one bottle. candy cane just isn't the same in liquid form.

We're doing the Christmas Eve thing this year because dad works on Christmas Day.

Went to Target today and while I still haven't found the Cranberry Siera Mist, I did pick up the three Holiday Jones Soda flavors (Sugar Plum, Candy Cane, and Egg Nog). Can't wait to try them. Also picked up some Little Debbie Brownie Christmas Trees, Snickers Holiday mix, and mint Hersey Kisses. They had candy cane ones too, but I was spending too much.

In my family, every year (without fail) there is a big debate over what Mass to attend. This is t began wbecause in order to actually have a place to sit for Mass, you literally have to arrive at least an hour early. The only exception to this is if you go to like the 8:00 AM Mass on Christmas day, when it's too early and most people are sitting around in their PJs going through their stockings. The Mass Fun has included such events as the year my dad was sick and went up to get a drink of water, and someone took his seat, so he stewed angrily in the basement, the year we delayed Mass until Noon on Christmas Day (didn't eat beforehand) and didn't get around to opening the gifts until about four o'clock in the afternoon, the year we had to arrive at Mass while the previous service was ending to ensure seats for the family, the year my brother tried to convince my parents we could celebrate Mass at home by reciting the whole thing, and of course, last year, when I took my boyfriend to my home church's Midnight Mass and iith the extremely holy remark: "Please remove your chewing gum." You know, not, uh, Merry Christmas or anything. Just don't chew any gum, ya heathens.

I should end this by saying that we weren't the sort of family who only went on Christmas and Easter. We were there every week, which would cause my dad to remark that people who went every week should be allowed to get tickets to ensure seating.

I’m going a little off topic for a sec. Today’s advent calendar gift was a dog; will Box ride the quadruped into glorious battle? That would be so boss.

Ok, my weirder Christmas memory would be… hmm. One year I had five or six gifts under the tree. Now for many this is the usual amount but I’m a spoiled bitch and being a spoiled bitch, I was none too pleased to see this. The first gift I opened was a plain white box, inside was twenty or thirty Power of the Force 2 Star Wars action figures. That was a pleasant surprise. That’s it, now I’m gonna go laugh at poor people, chow.

One year for Christmas… I think when I was in 5th or 6th grade… my family went down to Florida for Christmas. We went to Disney World and Universal Studios and all kinds of little places like Seaquarium and Lion Country Safari. And my brother fell in the everglades. Best Christmas ever.

Weird Christmases? One year my mother decided to to a buffet instead of a traditional meal. And I was sick. So my Christmas dinner? One meatball.

Brazilians also celebrate the Eve more than the Day, and by that I mean presents are opened at midnight. Then on the 25th we play with the loot and eat what's leftover from the dinner.
As for weird memories… One year, when I still lived at the apartment building, there was this big Christmas party for everyone to join in. THe parents were supposed to bring at least one present so that Santa could deliver it. You probably can imagine how that went down: a third of the parents brought the best one, to impress the rest; the other third brought the crappiest one so as not to spoil their own Christmas thing; and the last third just didn't bring anything or plain forgot it. Luckily, me and my brother were old enough for our parents to let us know that "the good ones are at home", but there were some pretty sad kids at that party…

We have this quilted wall thing called "Beary Merry Christmas" that's an advent calendar in the sense that every day in December, there are directions where you have to pin the bear in his house.

For example, it'll say "Bear looked for Christmas on the kitchen table." Well, every day we crowd around this stupid thing and go…"Is Christmas on the kitchen table???? (someone pins him to the kitchen table) No!? Well, maybe he'll find it tomorrow…"

A few years ago I was in the Army and traveled to my parents house on Christmas Eve but my flight was delayed. I didn't get to the house until 6am Christmas morning and I tried to sneak in and wake them by brewing coffee like that old 80's Christmas commercial. Everything was working out except for that pesky motion alarm they installed while I was away. So instead of the best part of waking up being Folgers in our cup it was alot of screaming and panic button pushing.

The most vivid memory I have of Christmas is when our former cat woke me up with his meowing. The thing is, I sleep three stories up and the cat was all the way on the ground. He was one loud cat.

Christmas Memory– Going to my uncle's house (same uncle who had me watch Charlie Brown) when I was very small. Everyone was singing and I recall being confused by the fact that everyone knew these songs except me. It was my first time hearing Christmas carols.

Weird Chanukah tradition– Dancing the Cha-cha on the first night. Only, we don't really know how and don't care to learn so it always winds up with us chasing each other and knocking into each other. Come to think of it, I haven't been "home" for the holidays in ages so I don't know if the Chanukah cha-cha is still danced.

We've had ups and downs, somber and goofy, but my oddball super nutty bizzarro #1 Christmas is marked and marred by one hell of a thing to do to a eight-year-old: a pack of toilet paper. Also it's THE WORST gift as chronicled in a past survey.

I'm thinking that my weirdest christmas memory would have to stem from my first trip to midnight mass. There's a backstory to this…my mom was a converted Catholic and tried to raise me Jewish. (we always had xmas- but as a strictly secular holiday, I guess she didn't want me to feel left out) My dad re-married when I was 5 or so, and my step-mom was something of a zealot in the realm of faith. So my first Christmas with her family, she insisted on me going to midnight mass with them, though she knew I was used to going to temple. So I sat in the pew, completely shocked, due to the rather, um, "vivid" depiction of Christ above the altar. My step-mom, noticing the fact that I was staring, leaned over and said to me "He died for you, you know". Imagine my confusion. My 5 year-old self thought Christmas was Santa's holiday.

As I got older, Christmas Eve quickly became my favorite of the two days. Seafood, a usually beautiful mass at my Step-mom's Mother's church, and presents from that side of the (much larger) family a day early. At some point, later on in my childhood, my mom had me choose between Hannukah and Chrismas….my presents were getting more expensive as I got older. That's another weird memory….I picked Christmas, because I got more presents. I think I was like 9. *shakes head*…

Well, there was the time my mom made a quadruple-batch of waffle mix and put it into the fridge to rise while we were at church Christmas Eve.

We came home and the thing had pratically exploded all over the inside of the fridge and oozed its way everywhere.

But one of my favourite weird Christmas memories is the time we left our dog alone for a few hours and forgot that we had left the wrapping paper in the same room. When we came back, you could see little tufts of paper peeking out from the door. She had made a friggin mess. then she waltzed out of the room with a "Well wtf are YOU looking at" glance that made the whole scene awesome.

Its been a couple of years since I posted anything here. But 2 memories for the winter, not quite xmas alone, are blue sweat pants (don't know why) and empire strikes back. Seems like every year something Hoth makes its way into my life right around NOW!

My family has a strange tradition where we play bingo on Christmas Eve. We wrap dollar store presents and grab them whenever we get a bingo. Then once all the presents are taken, we unwrap them and play again for about an hour "stealing" the presents from one another.
Often, my aunt will wrap up something incredibly gawdy, like a craft store snowman, and then tuck $5 or lottery tickets under its hat. It's strange watch my family fight over who gets the ugly snowman. I tend to horde cooler stuff, like Cashews and folding knives.
Since we get these "lesser fare" gifts on Christmas Eve, we generally save the good stuff for the big 2-5. Although when I was a kid, we got to open just one present before we went to bed on Christmas Eve.

One year, about when my brother was 3 or 4, he got a plastic riding Fonzie cycle. You know how Big Wheels could be pretty darned loud? This thing had a clicker inside that was LOUDER.

How do I know? Guess who woke everyone up that morning before 5 am by riding it up and down the hall!

Aw, man… I checked out your Amazon wishlist, Matt, and was this close to hitting the blog to say "What do you think you're doing?!?" in regards to the Alf DVDs, but then I read the comments. Hee.

I might be able to think of a better story, I don't know, and I don't know if I told this one yet, but the only weird thing I can think of right now is this one. One thing we always do at home is open one gift on Christmas Eve after we get home form my Grandma's. Usually, I do the choosing for each of us. It was either last year or the before when Dad picked one out that he had wrapped for Mom. "Here, open this one: I know what's in it," he says. It was an empty box. He had two of the same boxes and one light item, and wrapped the extraa box, thinking it was filled. It was hilarious at the time.

Mike P Holy crap in a hat I didn’t even realize that Pauly Pooch and Bird the Crow had returned! But wait, it can’t be them. They were turned into little boys by Santa! That and this years Crow has his feet facing the correct way. Could there be a never ending line of clone birds and dogs, like Mares? What will become of Mare’s mom? Will I ever find out why there’s blood in my urine? Stay tuned to find out!

Happy SNT, everybody! I've been so busy this week, I just caught up on the calendar last night. I love Box's little gender bias-free outfit!
I was an altar server a few times, including once on Christmas morning. Religious instruction in our family consisted of being dumped at CCD once a week, so I never really knew any of the Mass rituals and always just had to wing it. One time, while the priest was consecrating the wine and hosts, I was fidgeting around because my knees were killing me, and he actually stopped and asked me if I was okay. Horrifying. The Christmas Mass was actually uneventful, though I did get to follow the priest around the church with a bucket full of holy water while he used his little gold sceptre thing to sprinkle the parishioners. The high point of my churchgoing career.
Hahaha I spent a day this week updating all the comments on my Amazon wishlist too! "Deal? Or No Deal?" just cracked my shit up. The Creatures of the Deep book reminds me to ask again, have you been watching Blue Planet? Crazier undersea footage I have never seen.

Jeff Mack, we've got that same calendar. My kids still fight over who gets to place the bear on Christmas Eve.

Another random one for me: The year I spent Christmas Eve sick. (Actually, I've spent 2 or 3 Christmases sick, but this is the one that hurt the most.)

I was in the sixth or seventh grade, still very much "kid enough" to totally discount anything relating to school from November to January, all for the sake of wild and woolly Christmas anticipation. Living for the holiday season is not something I invented for site-related purposes; as was the case for many of you I'm sure, I spent the weeks and months leading up to Christmases doing nothing but Christmas things. Making lists, drawing bells, hanging decorations and making more lists. Point is, to be sick on Christmas Eve? That really, really sucked.

I had to go to the doctor in the morning, and it turned out that I'd caught the flu. I had NO SIGNS of ANY sicknesses even the DAY prior to Christmas Eve, so I was absolutely pissed and totally refusing to admit defeat — but by the time all of my siblings and relatives came over, yeah, I was done. Bedridden. When I wasn't sleeping, I was laying in a fever fog trying desperately not to hear everyone else having fun. My bedroom was pretty close to the dining and living rooms, so this was impossible. I can't even say that I was depressed about it, because I was more worried about dying than having my Christmas ruined.

What I remember most are the gifts. My family decided to give me all of mine early when I woke from one of my many naps. My mother delivered them, and everyone kind of poked their heads in to say hello. I got such awesome stuff that year. I'd just learned about the "collectors' market," so my sister got me this awesome price guide to Star Wars collectibles. (Back then, this was gold — unusual gold.) I also have a vague recollection of getting a package of astronaut ice cream.

My parents broke tradition by holding off on giving me their presents until Christmas morning proper, not because they were interested in trying something new, but because I passed out two minutes into opening everyone else's gifts the night before. I was always sneaking around and locating my gifts before Christmas, and spent the season wondering if my mother really believed that one of those black storage chests was something to push as the "big gift." When it finally came time to receive it, imagine my surprise to find it absolutely stuffed with toys and video games.

I'd say more, but then it wouldn't make sense not to put ads on this and turn it into an article. It was a sucky Christmas, all told, but there were definitely some memorable highlights. Namely, getting stuff.

I remember the smell of presents in the living room at 5 in the morning most of all. I know that sounds weird. I don't know if its the wrapping paper or the scotch tape.

Scotch tape has a smell to it. I love christmas morning at my moms house. I'ma huge hardcore gamer so i loved getting NES games for christmas. One Christmas in particular, i got an original gameboy for christmas 90, and a VCR and 5 new kids on the block dolls…and someother stuff too.

I can add at least two more "candy-cane-flavored-candies" to Matt's list. Along with the other 10,000 varieties they now make, Hershey's Kisses now come with crushed candy canes in them. I haven't tried them yet, but boy, do they look tempting. They appropriately come in a silver-and-red foil wrap with the usual white tag.

My favorite "candy-cane-flavored candy" though, is one that's been around for several years. I don't see Candy Cane Tootsie Pops as much as I used to, but they still pop up from time to time. Mom used to buy bags and bags of the stuff from November to New Year's Day. It's the same idea as your basic Tootsie Pop - suck long enough on hard candy and you'll get to the Tootsie Roll - but you're sucking on candy cane instead of fruit flavors. It tastes like you're sucking on an inverted peppermint patty, and it's some good stuff.

I used to watch "It's a Wonderful Life" on Christmas Eve after the rest of the family had settled down to bed or coffee, then read the last chapter of "A Christmas Carol" and wrote about the year past in my journal. I haven't had the time for "Wonderful Life" or my journal on Christmas Eve since I got out of college, but I still try to read "A Christmas Carol."

And the Advent Calender…just keeps getting more complicated. I will agree with Tigerboy that pies are a bitch to make, though. Believe me, I've tried. Out of the five or so pies I've made in my life, I think I've had one pumpkin pie come out somewhat close to what it was supposed to be like. I now prefer cakes and quick bread for my holiday non-cookie baking.

Matt: You SHOULD turn that into an article. Anyway, onto my xmas recollections. Back in 2001-2-ish(it was when the GameCube had just come out), I woke up Xmas morning at 4 AM with a fever. And I mean a HIGH fever(40 degrees C). I spent the bulk of the morning wrapped in blankets and shivering, sitting through the present-opening and the inaugural playings of the newly-obtained GameCube, refusing to admit any form of defeat until about 3 PM, at which point I caved. I spent pretty much the rest of the year in bed.

On an alternate topic, when I read Matt's bit on the "shit flavored like candy canes", I accidentally read it as "shit-flavored candy canes", and had to read it again to make sure I'd read it right…

Creatures of the Deep - at first I thought that was a companion to that documentary that's been on one of the science channels. I've watched it like five times. It looks boss.

One obscure Christmas memory is the time my two cousins got a gigantic box full of Ninja Turtles. They just seemed to keep coming out of the box forever. Like magic.

Well, as I've been thinking about these memories while writing a paper and listening to the jukebox, I remembered a couple of other things. There was one year when I was really little when I had to wake up at 3 am so we could do the present thing and Dad could get to work. That was really strange. I'm pretty sure that was the year when I got my Doug videos. I remember watching them, reading a book or two with my new booklight, and eventually going back to bed after Dad was gone and Mom was back in bed.

Then last year, I remember being up late before the holiday and working on some homework, with the lights out and only the tree on. I was listening to the X-E jukebox when "Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time" came on. I looked at the tree, and it felt just like "Pluto's Christmas Tree," and I just stopped for a minute and enjoyed the feeling. Awww.

Ok, weird Christmas memory? I think last year, when 3 of my many gifts were increasingly larger bottles of Body Spray. Like, first there was a trial size of Axe, then a normal bottle of Bod Man, then a Poker 2 Pack w/Chips of TAG! What the hell?! I've only used the Axe so far, I already had my regular bottles of TAG in the process of using it!

Back when I used to spend every Xmas eve over an aunt's house, my cousins & I would go into the tiny TV room and watch the Beavis & Butt-head Christmas special on MTV. Very awesome until they stopped running it.

"Pie is damn hard." gets my vote for "next X-E catchphrase" replacing "I don't want to think about chicken…"

I also despise candy canes, but I'm going to get all 3 Jones Sodas AND the Thanxgiving ones soon!

I was always sneaking around and locating my gifts before Christmas, and spent the season wondering if my mother really believed that one of those black storage chests was something to push as the "big gift." When it finally came time to receive it, imagine my surprise to find it absolutely stuffed with toys and video games.

Just so you know…..I loathe your rich mom. I could only dream of a present like that.

We do this gift exchange game thing every year with my dad's side, and it's always really fun. But my one uncle is not with it, mentally, and neither is anyone else in their family. We're supposed to buy things around 20 bucks that people will actual want so its fun to fight over. But they always bring pure shit that they obviously picked up at Rite Aid on the way over.

Two years ago, I had my 2 best friends join in the fun, and they ended up with the shittiest gifts ever. One was one of those giant hershey kisses… That's like what? 2 dollars?!? and the other was a bag of nuts. Just nuts. again, 2 dollars. Cheap bastards! Then they go home with 40 dollars worth of whatever. Whatever… I got the good genes.

During Christmas 1991 my mom found a bunch of old Avon hair and makeup products and set them out for the guests in an open giftwrapped box that said "FREE! TAKE ONE." My cousins and I nabbed all the hairspray and air fresheners, ran to my room and fought the epic War of the Sprays. (I had a film camera at that time, so I have pics of us blasting each other with spray smoke.)

The capper was when somebody else came in the room and said "It's dinner tim–AAH, WHAT THE HECK??? IT SMELLS IN HERE!!!" We fell on the floor laughing.

I wish someone would buy something from my Amaazon wishlist…maybe when I'm as famous as Matt one day

My most recent holiday memory is the one Christmas when I knew that it would never be innocent or carefree again. When you're a kid, Christmas is a time for toys and self-indulgence: you get things you don't need and you just sit back and wait for the turkey to come. That year, however, the presents under the tree included gift certificates, and socks. And in my stocking (the family still does stockings, and will do stockings, for everyone in the house, even my parents have stocking stuffers) was a fine assortment of scratch-lottery tickets, disposable razors, and AXE bodyspray. "Stocking-sized" does not necessarily mean that it's a "stocking stuffer," man. But I knew the carefree days of action figures and a sock full of santa-shaped candy were gone, and even good ol' Saint Nick was telling me to grow up. There wasn't any snow that Christmas either. Wow, what a depressing memory this is.

On the same note, had anyone else always had their father "play Santa" (I don't mean full-on decked out in the suit) and pass out the gifts from under the tree every year, and then one year it just felt really awkward? I don't know what that was.

My best/weirdest Christmas ever was when I was five and the whole family got together at my grandparent's. We didn't have the TV on because we were playing cards and board games (something we did a lot when I was younger). I was probably practicing tumbles in the living room or fighting with my cousin. Anyway, there was a freak snowstorm and the entire family was snowed in (about thirty people).

Now, kingklash understands why this is so unusual because we both live in Oklahoma… snowstorms do not just "sneak up" on you here. And if they do they're not much more than a few flurries and everyone freaks out and then it melts by the next morning and all is well again. Well, we ended up with NINE INCHES OF SNOW! …And then the power went out…

My cousin found some candles and the guys brought in firewood so we could light a fire in the fireplace and everyone got a flashlight. The kids spent most of the evening making shadow puppets and playing hide-n-seek and then we all played camp-out on the floor. It was seriously the best Christmas ever.

oh man today's title had me cracking up hard. krisp kringles are my favorite chrismcandy this year. not too many weird xmas tales, unfortunately. one year my bro made a basketball sized snowball and threw it at a neighbor's house and when it hit a flash of light was emitted. it was pretty spooky.

My girlfriend's grandmother gave me really cheap cologne last year. It was called Midnight Cowboy and I couldn't resist to try it as a joke. Well, the joke was on me because it made my neck itch like crazy and I walked around all day smelling like an over ripe banana.

Alright, I've got one. With a long set-up so I can talk about that stuff as well. See, somewhere along the line we started trying to trick each other. You know the usual stuff: little gift in a big-ass box, etc. Well at somepoint along that line somewhere, we started trying to see who could give the LAST gift. So, the really big stuff would always be held off to last. And we always have to say "Okay, is that the last one? Cause I've got a really big one and it needs to be last" because that's how jaded and nested this process has become. And that has to be asked at least 3 times before we finally admit defeat, wallets empty and gift-reserves exhausted.

It's amazingly fun and I've made it an artform. I strategically place my gifts in places around our house that I know people will be sitting by, so I can be all "yeah I'm done. but, uh, why don't you check to see if I left anything in that drawer next to you" The best was when we had a recliner that had compartments in the armrests. Used that gag for as many years as we had the chair.

So, that was all set up for the oddest memory which is lame compared to what I just said, but all that was kinda off topic, technically. One year I opened a gift and it was a Game Gear game and I'm all like "I don't have a Game Gear, guys" in the hope that they were that stupid, cause I wanted to return it and use the money to buy a game boy game. Well I got another one, and another one, and the cleaning kit, and I'm thinking Awesome, I'm going to get SO MANY Game Boy games! But then the "last gift" was a Game Gear. Bummer. Took 6 AA batteries that lasted all of an hour, before I put them in my Game Boy which ran on them for about 6 months. I appreciate it, but it never held a candle to my Game Boy

There are a lot of people at my family's Christmas parties, and one of my brothers and I have, I guess for as long as I can remember, made it a tradition to "get" somebody at least once. In its infancy, this tradition was more along the lines of putting signs on other family members' backs — stuff like, "Santa Thinks I Smell Like Crap," or "Kick Me If It's Christmas Eve." It'd later evolve into something so much more, and something so much more drink-related.

We have a thing for fucking with everyone's beverages. One year, he brought along this powder that'd instantly solidify just about any drink, and with hearts as cold as ice, we chose my grandmother as the foil. After dropping the dust and heading to a corner to spy on the results, we cracked up for 20 minutes as the poor old lady continually tried to drink from her cup, never quite figuring out why it was now thick and undrinkable, but also never bringing it up to anyone else. She just kept trying to drink from it, sporadically, and this went on and on until someone else caught us laughing and put 2 and 2 together.

That wasn't our opus, though. Another year, we secretly inserted fish leftover from dinner in another of my brother's cake slice — a big ass piece of smelly, burnt fish. He ate the slice and the fish and never once questioned anything. We were in shock. This tale's legacy lives on and is known as the "Fishcake Incident."

i dont actually have many of my own, because my memory has deteriorated to the point of near-extinction, but i do recollect the time when my parents had just bought a brand new camcorder and they got up early christmas morning and just waited with the camera on for my brother and i to come running full-speed into the living room as we usually did, and they waited…..and waited…..and waited…until about 11am, at which point they decided to wake our lazy asses up. so there is video of my brother and i walking into the living room, half-conscious, having no idea what the hell was going on, but then instantly waking up when we saw that our living room was littered with all sorts of presents which our parents had unwrapped and neatly placed all around the tree to make it look like Santa had done it.

all in all, that was a freakin great christmas. what did i get? i dont even remember, but i loved it. lol

We open our presents on Christmas Eve too. When I was younger, I had the habit of tearing little pieces of wrapping paper off my presents to try and guess what they were. So, one year my grandma wrapped all my gifts in clothes and other stuff from around the house to keep me from peeking. When I was twelve, all my gifts were put into two big boxes, and I was disappointed because I thought I was only getting two gifts. All turned out well, because that was the year I got my Super Nintendo.

my parents always had this thing about my brothers and I not going into the front room until my dad had showered and had at least one cup of coffee. so my two brothers and I usually sat on the stairs until it was time. about three years ago, mind you we're all in our late 'teens at this point, we finally realized how absolutely stupid the rule was and decided to protest: we sang the "crispy critters" jingle over and over again getting louder and more obnoxious with each "indubidably!" that was the last year anyone had to sit on the stairs.

plus it didnt really matter about us sneaking into our presents before my parents were ready. my mom had a habit of making a list of our presents on a legal pad……then leaving said legal pad on the kitchen table. i haven't had a surprise christmas present since i was eight.

We always went for the triple-header - 24th, 25th, 26th. Christmas Eve consisted of us opening just ONE present to appease our rabid, greedy souls, and going to visit our paternal grandparents who live(d)in a mansion despite their middle-class status. The adults would gather in the kitchen and living room, bad-mouthing the french and the Natives (I come from a biiiig clan of racists. Family pride!) while we kids would channel surf for Christmas specials (they had PREMIUM cable!), hook up an old NES to play Mario, or fool around with some game on the computer involving Santa bowling for elves that attempted to form a union. The computer game was not a popular option, however, not because it was boring (the elves MOONED us, yo), but because every hour on the hour I had to check the NORAD site for updates on Santa’s worldwide journey and went absolutely psychotic if I couldn’t. I got away with this because I was the youngest and militantly crazy about it – when they said he was nearing North America, I’d strong-arm my entire family into going to bed. A hammed dinner was also served, if I recall correctly. Before heading home at roughly 10 pm because of some increasingly shrieky fits over NORAD’s reports, my Grampy would throw in his annual threat about shooting Rudolph (my favourite reindeer) that night. Cookies and milk, and a carrot for Rudolph, were laid out and I’d order my brothers to bed after a final NORAD check. I’m telling you, I was nuts.

Christmas morning Daniel and me would be up at approx. five am, but were forbidden from going downstairs until seven. So we’d sit at the top of the stairs, growling, mostly at each other because of the mutual hate-on. Then Mom would get up and go to the bathroom, and then wake Dad up, and then we’d all pound on his door until Mitchell got up, at which he’d promptly go into the bathroom for half an hour. A joyful bound down the stairs, and there were our individual hordes of presents. Stockings, pause for coffee (and Pepsi and roast beef to revive an unconscious Mitchell), gifts from Santa (and, in my case, Rudolph, proving once and for all that Grampy was a lousy shot – I’m coming to realize I was also crazy when it came to Rudolph), Mom and Dad, Mitchell and Daniel– with a constant comedy war going on between me and Mitchell, each trying to trick the other better, with him winning spectacularly one year by forcing algebra on me in order to decipher the location of my gift – and my cousins (more on them next), which included a Dutch milk chocolate letter except for Daniel’s because he was a freakish chocolate-hating freak. There was a huge breakfast at eleven and playing with our toys till three in the afternoon, a massive turkey dinner and homemade awesome pumpkin pie around four. Afterwards we’d go to my grandparents once again and listen to Grampy bemoan his inability to murder Santa and ensure his goal of eternal depression for children everywhere.

Boxing Day was at my cousin’s: Gail, Carl, Perry, and Andy. Thank-you’s for gifts, and we’d rush off to Andy’s room to play Nintendo 64. Always, the game would be 007’s Goldeneye, always they’d go into four-player kill-for-all mode, and always I would be condemned to sit out and watch because I was a girrrrrrrl. Then they’d head out to play hockey on the lake without me because I was a girrrrrrrl. But I didn’t mind, since I got to see Gail present their loot (better than ours, them being rich) and taste test all the candy. Also, I couldn’t – can’t – skate. A disgrace to Canadians everywhere, I know. There would be pizza, leftover turkey dinner, and squash pie, which always seemed more exotic than pumpkin pie. Sledding, too, on the awesome hill in their cow pasture where I almost died when I was three, and hot chocolate.

Nowadays, my grandparents are too old and dead for the Christmas Eve dinner, and my cousins no longer have a Nintendo 64. Next year Mitchell will be in Afghanistan. But I still check NORAD every year, still receive presents from both Rudolph and Santa, and my mom still makes the best pumpkin pie in the universe. And I still love Christmas. I do I do I do.

Another Christmas memory I thought of: 2 years ago we had Christmas in Williamsburg. It was pretty damn cool, but we had agreed before hand to no presents. We weren't in our own house, anyway, and it would be impossible to get presents up there.

So anyway, we're staying in one of the colonial homes (an authentic 18th century one, to boot), and we go to Christmas eve services at Bruton Parish (the oldest Episcopal Church in America). By the time the service is over, it is 12:30 in the morning Christmas day.

When we got back to our house, there was a small gift, wrapped in brown paper and tied with brown string. It was just a calendar from the Colonial foundation (I didn't even end up with it! My parents did), but the whole unexpected-ness of finding a gift like that on our front porch was so awesome that it made the whole day even better than it already was.

Going backwards: I also remember the year that I got the G.I. Joe Space shuttle complex, which was made of AWESOME. I remember the box being bigger than I was, too.

Ok, so maybe those weren't "weird" Christmas memories, but hey–I'm 23 years old and Nostalgia is all I can get sometimes.

Under the banner of weird Christmas traditions you don't really think about: When I was a kid, we had three houses to hit after our own. We saw both sets of grandparents with my great-grandmother's house in the middle. That was always the low point of the day because not only did we rarely get presents there (if we got stuff, it was usually cards with checks in them), but we had to sit in the living room and watch all the old people (we were the only kids) do their present thing. They would go around the room with only one person opening gifts at a time. Once they opened a gift, they'd go on and on about how it was "just what they wanted". But, the thing is, everyone made a specific list at Thanksgiving for the person who drew his/her name to know what to get. Still, everyone always acted shocked that the person knew exactly what to buy. That always went on for a couple of hours.

Weirdest single memory: There are so many, but here's an awkward one. Every year at my grandparents' house, we would read the Christmas story from the Bible before we opened gifts. Christmas 1996, my grandfather made a little speech about how I would be graduating in June and how special I was and how he wanted me to read the story this year. Aside from the fact that he had never done anything similar for any of my cousins, what he wasn't thinking specifically was that one of my cousins was supposed to graduate in June, too. He had finally turned things around after a few rough years in high school. My grandfather didn't say a thing about him. I felt terrible. There was also the year that my sister got nauseous from the fireplace smell and had to go throw up in the middle of gift opening. That probably would have been a better story.

When I was in the Air Force, I was stationed in Omaha, Nebraska one year. So, the mother-in-law that could give Mother Mare a run for her money comes to visit for the week. It wasn't quite Christmas, yet, but, close enough. She makes a few dozen Christmas cookies and they are sitting out all over the kitchen counters. We decided to go out for pizza, and headed out the door. So we're sitting there and the pizza comes out. I start cutting it, when something occurs to me. We have a dog.

When we got home, 13 out of about 24 cookies are gone and our dog is passed out on the kitchen floor along with one half-eaten cookie.

Stella Gold: I loved your stories!! The remark about almost dying on the hill reminded me of a story my parents told me about the first time I ever played in the snow. I was a year and a half old and my parents bundled me up ’til I could barely move and then let me toddle about in the snow. I fell in a ditch in the backyard that was just deep enough for a toddler to disappear in. They looked for me for twenty minutes before they caught our dog dragging me out of the ditch by my shoe.

Jumping off what colls said, who remembers when the "switch" occured? It had to have been about a decade ago for me, which sounds late in retrospect, cause I'm 24 now.

The switch in who gets up first. I remember being absolutely positively insane about getting up like at 4 or 5. My parents hated it, mostly my Dad, but they always caved instantly cause they knew they could just sleep the rest of the day away anyway.

Falling asleep took FOREVER and then I'd only be asleep for maybe 2 hours at best. But then it started being just like any other day and my parents had to start waking me up. They usually get me up about 10 for breakfast and the main event, but I'd be perfectly content to sleep til at least 1, usually. They're gonna have to drag me this year.

Damn stress, damn work, school, growing up

"Being grown up, isn't half as fun as growing up"

Special K: Aw, thanks! Mine: in their eternal wisdom, my dad and brothers decided it would be fun to send me down an incredibly steep hill all by myself, despite the fact that I was frickin' three years old. So down I went - pushed hard, mind, no gentle nudges for me - while Mitchell (age seven) waited at the bottom to stop me. Being light and speedy, I gained too much momentum for his chubby arms and went flying past, heading for the barbed-wire fence. Luckily(?), there was a huge mound of snow-covered ice that acted as a ramp, and I sailed right over it into the woods beyond. Took them a while to find me and ascertain that there was no broken bones or death involved. But whatever, I got free hot chocolate. Hot chocolate solves all the world’s problems.

Stella Gold: Aw, what a fun/scary/sweet/*insert other cutesy adjectives here* story!! Kind of makes me wish I'd had siblings who tried to kill me… more for the "Thank God You're Not Dead" hot chocolate than for the actual dying part.

You know, my mom has always been the most psyched for Christmas. She was always awake first, just waiting for us. If we weren't up by 8, she was knocking on the door going, "Come on! It's Christmas!" The way I see it, the presents will still be there at 11. Let me sleep. It's a holiday.

When I was a freshman in high school one of my older brothers was living in Chile and my family went to visit him over Christmas vacation. We got there Christmas Eve and my catholic parents made us go to midnight mass. It was pretty crowded and we had to get there early to get seats. I'd been feeling pretty cruddy all day but I thought I could keep it together, figuring mass would only be about an hour. Mass started and everyone was singing silent night, and I was feeling worse and worse. Ten minutes later, they were still singing it. I don't know spanish, but I swear there's no way there are that many verses. I finally couldn't take it anymore, had to run out, and puked all over the church steps. People started coming up to try to help me, and all I could do was say "I'm sorry, I don't speak spanish". My brother ended up having to wipe off the steps with tissues. Oh, and my mom had a sucky time the rest of the trip and never fails to mention that her favorite part was the mass, which she didn't really get to attend considering she had to leave because of me. That was the first of many holidays I accidentally ruined.

This may be spoiling things, but can anyone tell me how you buy someone something from their Amazon Wish List? Do you have to know their full shipping address, or…?
Just picked up a Red Cup full of Peppermint Mocha on the way home from more shopping. Now I'm sipping it, reading X-E and listening to the new Jukebox, while my doggie sleeps in my lap. I honestly couldn't name something I'd rather be doing on a Saturday night. I feel like I should be baking cookies, just to complete the tableau. Hope everyone's night is equally festive

Well, we had this christmas tradition in my house where my brother would get up around 6 am and come into my room and we would talk about all the stuff we were going to get, like games and such….and no one could go down stairs until my mom or grandma turned on the tree lights and crap…so like many of the x-e er's here I waited with my brother at the top of the steps til just the right moment.

Anyone else get those wtf were they thinking gifts? every year without fail, my mom and grandma would come up with one or two insnaely useless gifts for me and my brother. One year we each got a coin sorting bank, or those car cleaning gift sets with the tire foam and turtle wax, or one of them pre wrapped executie toys i think they call them, from walmart…like a desk top dart board or gold putter thingy…weirdest crap you ever saw. Admittedly alot of it came from this place back in the day called Collingswood auction…a fleamarket auction room place where old people and rednecks sat in folding chairs inthis huge warehouse attached to the fleamarket, and this dude bob would call out these items to buy, and set a price and everyone bought one or did'nt…kinda like QVC or Home shopping club only live and with crappy stuff.

Also, I've come in recent years to resent the stuff i used to get from my father and former step mom as presents. I just now realized he gave me and my bro shitty stuff just to be spiteful. I mean, this crap was regifted over and over so many times that it was obscene…he never liked paying child support so he figured my mom got alot of money form welfare and my grnadparents, so he didnt have to buy us gifts, even though we now know he had more money than god. He's a good guy now though, bornagain christian married to someone else and hands out 50 dollar bestbuy gift cards like they are going out of style.

My family has several weird little tricks. My older brother is, I swear to God, in possession of an honest to goodness mutant power. He can figure out what's in a present just by rattling it, providing he hasn't snooped it out in the first place. Now bear in mind, this is an extremely intelligent man in his 30's, not a kid. This of course drove me, my older sister, and my sister-in-law absolutely nuts. So we started wrapping pennies and uncooked rice with his gift to screw up the rattle. My two favorites include the year my sister-in-law wrapped an engine mount with his gift, and the year my sister and I wrote a cryptic poem, wrapped it, of course with pennies and rice, and then hid his present (a large collection of European beers) in the dryer. There's nothing like humor at another person's expense at 5 in the a.m.

Then there are the variety of creative ways various family members have used to wake me Christmas morning. My older brother once stood a broom on the end of my bed and dropped it so it hit me square between the eyes. What made this even more surreal was that I woke up a split second before the broomstick hit. It didn't hurt, but it was extremely jarring.

Then there was the year I lived with my paternal grandparents. My cousin Micheal, a year younger than I am, something his mother has yet to forgive me for, put a drinking straw up each of my nostrils and blew. That's a hell off a way to wake up; sinus headache and the urge to scream. Merry Christmas!

I have a nephew who is only seven years my junior. He has alternately had the family Dalmation (who routinely eats cat poop for fun) come in and lick me awake, or he'll get musical. The year before last he invented a guitar chord to play in my ear as I slept. Is it any wonder I twitch so violently when in repose?!

I got Brendan back, though. I like to wrap his Christmas presents in about seven layers of differing wrapping paper. Sometimes I'll scrawl taunting messages on the paper as well, Christmas is fun!

To totally derail anything said in this thread, I just wanted to say. IT'S MY BIRTHDAY TODAY!!!!!!!PRAISE ME!!!!!!!!!!

Happy birthday, Jester! Santa Claus Conquers the Martians would be nicely seasonal.
Just heard "Christmas in the Stars" for the first time. Excellent job on the Jukebox, guys!

I’ve always associated church with donuts because of Christmas, especially donuts in those pink boxes. Holy donuts! It’s almost a Pavlovian association I have between religion and pastries.

My family’s never been very religious, but my mom was raised as a strict Catholic and felt some kind of obligation to instill that into my brother and me. So we literally went to church once a year. I don’t remember if it was exactly on Christmas day, or Eve, or when, but it was for Christmas. We stopped going while I was still single digits in age, so I can only remember it in the sugarhaze of youth.

Oh, there were identical twin nuns at that church. I do remember that. They weren’t very friendly. Maybe they were, I don’t know, but you can’t not be five years old and be afraid of twin nuns. The church was in a strip mall, which I now realize to be somewhat peculiar. And convenient! There was a McDonald’s just across the way.

In addition to consistent religion, my childhood also lacked donuts. I’m not sure why, my parents were not overly health-conscious, but I seriously considered Christmas Mass to be the one time of the year to get donuts. DOUGHHH NUUUTS! Freakin’ ambrosia to a clueless little kid. Almost literally food of the gods. They would have a table of the pink pastry boxes laid out in front of the church. I assume we indulged after mass, because you don’t want your congregation getting sticky fingers all over your pews, y’know. No, don’t make any sticky-fingered jokes here.

I definitely assumed that all churches, if not all religious institutions, laid out boxes of pastries at appropriate times. That’s not a belief that held but I know I believed it. Why else would anyone go to church if not for the donuts? Christmas donuts.

I have one Christmas memory of opening presents, and then me and my cousins spending the rest of the day fighting over a huge box that something came in. I can still remember the view from inside the thing.

Wow, I'm envious of all of you that have so many great Christmas memories…. I don't remember much of past Christmases, mainly because they're never particularly memorable. We usually get together with the extended family and I sit around sulking while everyone talks politics and makes all kinds of prejudice comments. Aside from the early-morning present opening, my Christmases are usually a bust. When I was with my old long-term boyfriend I started going over to his house for Christmas. One year I got him the complete Spy vs Spy, an import Votoms game, and a slew of all kinds of great shit. He got me nothing. His uber-Christian grandmother got me a candlestick set, which I now use for witchcraft.

Last year it was apparent that my last remaining grandmother was turning senile. She would hand people presents on Christmas morning singing to the tune of "Happy B-Day", "Merry Christmas to you….Merry Christmas to you….Merry Christmas Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas to you!" I don't know if that is funny or sad but with my sense of humor I will lean to the funny side.

We would always go to my Grandmother's house for Xmas Eve night. We would eat an AMAZING turkey dinner while the Xmas music played all night in the background. Then we would go into her living room, where she would open all her gifts "while she had company to share it with." My brother, parents and I would open ONE gift that we brough from home as well as the ones from my Grandmother.

Usually, my parents picked a GOOD gift for us to open Xmas Eve- one that would keep us happy until the next morning when we opened all the rest. The year I was 13, all I wanted was a CD Walkman, so I could listen to music on the bus ride to school (I live in the sticks- the bus ride was almost an hour). My parents WINKED at me as I began to open my gift on Xmas Eve, so I assumed it was my walkman!!

…..It turned out to be AN ELECTRIC LEG RAZOR! Which I opened in horror and embarrassment. Dad turns to Mom and goes "That wasn't it! Oh no!" Then my Grandma goes "What do you need THAT for?? You shouldn't be shaving your legs!" Then my little brother says, "You shave your legs? Ewwww!" And I am struggling not to cry.

When we got home that night, they found the correct gift, and I opened the CD Walkman after all. That was the only year I opened TWO gifts on Xmas Eve.

For me it was in 5th or 6th grade…I remember going to sleep on christmas eve and being woken up at like 12:30 in the morning to the hushed whispers and curses of my mom and grandma and grandpa…they apparently were putting out the presents and someone had tripped and made a commotion…"god dammit now they're gonna wake up ! sonofabitch!"

I also remember the one year when I really thought santa existed…it was christmas of 85…and i badly wanted the my little pony babies preschool playhouse thinga ma bob…it was pricey for 1985 standards though…like 60 bucks. Anyways, there was this litle kid in the neighborhood who everyone thought was gross, and I invited him over to play with me and some friends, we had these little mcdonalds cars that drove when you pulled them back and let them go. I was scheming and thingking santa would get me my pony house if he saw me playing with this kid and being nice. It worked!

This one comes from my girlfriend:
When we were little every Christmas eve my little sister and I slepted in the same bed together because we were too excited, staying up late and talking. I was always the first to get tired but she kept talking and annoying me. While her mad ramblings carried on I noticed that the closet door was open a little and began to weave an evil tale.

I told her that she better stop being mean and bratty because tonight was the night Buchka the evil elf from the south pole comes out to claim bad children. Unlike Santa who came down chimies Buchka comes out of open closet doors and hers just happened to be open.

She told me to shut up and started to get up to close the door. I yelled with much urgency "YOU BETTER NOT DO THAT! He or one of his evil elves may be in there listening right now." She was claiming to not believe me but you could see the fear in her eyes. I told her that if she read the news paper every Christmas morning you will see that hundreds of children go missing every Christmas Eve. I told her that assuming she cleans up her act tonight and escapes capture I'd show her in the morning the missing children cases in the paper.

Once she started crying as if death's hand was upon her and saying she was going to scream for mom I came clean and told her it wasn't true and hugged her.

Trish - haha! We have a rule of not moving the bear on the 24th until late Christmas Eve. Him finding Christmas early Christmas Eve morning just doesn't seem right.

Did anyone read the see the Peanuts Christmas Tree joke in this morning Foxtrot comic strip. Hilarious.

I'm just like Mystie is that I got small memories of Christmas because they're not that memorable. But I do have a couple.

1.) I wanted the Ghostbusters Ghost Trap one year. I got the proton pack instead with a note from Santa Claus on it saying the elves were too busy and couldn't get around to making one for me. I didn't mind, of course.

2.) One year, we were at my great grandmothers house and Santa Claus stopped by to give gifts to all the kids in the family. Santa had my grandpa's eyes and even glasses, so I thought it was him. The problem? Grandpa was sitting right behind him, so it couldn't be him. I still don't know who he was even today.

What are you saying mandy_Reeves?! Santa's real!! NORAD proves it every year!

Man guys, I love these stories! I was an only child, and my cousins were all older than me, so I didn't have as exciting Christmases as I wanted.

One odd memory I have would be the time my Grandma and Uncle came to my house for Christmas. I guess in the middle of the night my Uncle was having a nick fit. He decided to light up his cigarette underneath a smoke detector. I remember waking up to the loud beeping and my Dad yelling at me to wake up and get out of the house! After everyone got out of bed we decided to just open the gifts.

And Matt, do you get a lot of odd looks from the cashiers at Toys R Us when you buy all that Playmobil stuff or do you do your toy shopping online?

Ooo! Stories about Santa! Okay, first off, one of my favorite stories from when I was little: My parents had signed me up for one of those "Have Santa Claus Call Your Child" things. I think I was four, and when the phone rang, my mother said, "Kasi, why don't you answer it. It might be someone special." So I picked up the phone and said hello and "Santa" on the other end said something to the effect of "Hello, Kasi! This is Santa Claus! I'm calling to see what you'd like for Christmas this year!" Unfortunately for him, the guy sounded EXACTLY like my Uncle Gary, so I turned to my mom and said, "It's nobody special, it's just Uncle Gary." "Santa" spent the rest of our conversation trying to convince me that he really was Santa and not my uncle and I spent the whole time thinking I was telling my uncle what to get me for Christmas. When Christmas came and my real uncle didn't get me what I had asked "him" for, I berated him in front of the whole family.

I literally believed in Santa Claus until I was eight years old. I pretended to believe in him until I was eleven because I was afraid that if I admitted I didn't believe, I wouldn't get any presents.

I don't remember what actually made me stop believing, but I do remember being devastated by it and crying myself to sleep a lot… and then reasoning that Santa was more of a Christmas spirit than an actual person.

I remember the Christmas I was shopping at Kay-Bee's for my boys and found original Star Wars figures marked down to 99 cents. I loaded up - the boys got a huge box filled with Luke, Leia, Chewie, Han, Darth Vader, R2D2, C3PO, Luke's vehicle that he sold, a speeder bike, some assorted storm troopers, a bunch of different Ewoks - PLUS the ENTIRE cantina band - and more that I can't remember. We still have some of the figures, but R2 and C3PO somehow walked off in the pocket of one of their more dishonest friends after he came over to play.

My ex (their father) thought I was wasting money. He thought spending money on HeMan toys was a waste, too. Guy had no imagination whatsoever.

Anyway…that was a great Christmas. The boys were about 7 and 4 at the time, and they were stoked when they tore that box open! Those are the times when parents don't care if they get any presents; just seeing the reaction of their kids is enough. Sniff.

Hm, I'm late to the game (sorry, I actually went out last night =x) but I remember one year I got really ill around Christmas. I was in 4th grade, and I had a huge fever for about a week before Christmas - when I was supposed to have both a piano recital and ballet performance. Not only that, but I missed the Christmas party at school. I remember being really upset and crying, and my sister brought me Christmas shaped Runts from her class' Christmas party. I think I was okay by the time Christmas actually rolled around, but I was still bummed that I had missed all that stuff.

Jeff, yep - moving the bear was the last thing done before bed on Christmas Eve; the order was - hang the stockings, put out the cookies and milk (and carrots for Rudolph), then do the calendar.

Santa always left an ornament in every one's stocking. I told the kids that they weren't allowed to take their ornaments with them when they moved away from home until they were married (and to someone I trusted….lol) to ensure that the box full of memories would be taken care of properly.

Santa also left a Christmas-themed book under the tree, and a calendar for each kid….plus he would write each one of them a 'thank you' note and leave it by the cookie plate - personalized, of course, and making note of their accomplishments through the year, thus perpetuating the "He knows when you've been bad or good" myth. We have a huge basket filled with all of the books that is put out by the tree, and the kids sit down and read through them just like when they were little.

Damn, I miss having little kids around. I envy you guys who have young families or who have all of that ahead of you!

I suck, cause I got nothin' to add.

But I was curious if Matt is reading this: how much planning goes into these calendars? Do you plan each day in advance? Plot the whole thing? Know the resolution ahead of time? The mind wonders.

I dont want to sound un-grateful for all the hard work Matt puts into the advent calendar, but I have had a rough day and could really use my fix from the adventures of Knacks, Kuse and company. So any idea when Dec. 10ths update is coming?

Terror: I definitely never know where it's going point by point, save for some "plot points" that occur along the way to weave the thing into some sense of a continuous story. I usually have some idea of what the conflict/resolution is going to be, but by the time I get to it, the idea either bores me or I do something else. The short answer is, "I look at the figures for a few minutes everyday until they start talking to each other."

to join into the "when i knew santa was a fraud" discussion, when i was about seven i was putting out chocolate chip cookies for santa, and my mom stopped me and said "i think santa would rather have jingles tonight". when i asked her how she knew, she kinda froze and said "he called and told me".

Ah thank you Matt. You really are out-doing yourself this year with the calendar. what with all the myspace cross-over and extremely in depth story. It's almost like a soap opera. I'm expecting Legotron to go into a coma or something…

My Pop pop told us to leave piza and beer for santa lol, just to mess around with us….

oh btw Matt, i wish i had a thing of this to send you to blog about, but one year at a raft show, i picked p a tiny baggie of mini marshmallows, and it had a poem about it being SNOWMAN POOP! too funny…they threw in a bag of glitter too and called it reindeer food…it had granola and glitter

Well my family has totally had a tradition of the Christmas Pand for the last 13 years. Some commercial ripped off of our family tradition, so most people scoff as soon as they hear about this story. I forget what product the commercial was for, but our whole family feels robbed as a result. Being that it is almost impossible to trademark family traditions, we have had to swallow the bittersweet pill that is having precious family moments used for profit by some dastardly company. Anywho, we set out in 1993 to a costume shop for a Santa suit to make all the young kids piss themselves in amazement. The only costume shop that still had a Santa suit this late in the year (we didn't even call until December 20th) was a good two hour drive from any of us. We decided to make the trek anyway as it was our only hope to get that suit. When we get to the shop, the lady over the phone thought we called in to reserve a PANDA SUIT instead of a SANTA SUIT. There was no Santa suit in the whole store obviously, and we were stuck coming back home empty handed. I decided to rent the PANDA SUIT anyways and just make do from there. The Christmas Panda was born that Christmas Eve at the family party. We decided it would be better to make this a surprise for everyone. I wanted to see the look on Grandma's face when she saw the Santa Suit workaround. Everyone sat on the floor of my Aunt's game room and waited eagerly shouting "who is that" and "I think I hear Jingle Bells". No you didn't, no one heard any bells. Quit lying to the children all ready. In walks the biggest, blackest, and happy facedest Panda the world has ever seen. The kids went nuts, doing ad-lib Panda breakdances right on the carpet. Cheers were lifted to the heavens as presents poured out of the Newly crowned bear's sack. Christmas Panda was king with the kids. This must seriously have been the coolest shit they had ever seen. Grandma on the other hand… not so much. They were pissed that the money we were sent with for a Santa Suit was spent on this obviously not Christmas-ish in any way Panda getup. The kids loved the Panda so much that we ended up having to BUY the Panda suit, and it is still worn every Christmas Eve since. Since then the Panda has gained Christmas accessories making him more seasonable, but it is still the same junk suit. I love this memory because it reminds me of how a family is able to overcome obstacles when there is love and togetherness involved. So go stick that in a Hallmark Card and rip off another of my precious family memories. We WILL remember who you are Mr. Company, and the Christmas Panda will exact his yule tide revenge.

I remember one year, just once, I went looking for the presents just like any other naughty kid. And I found them. Unwrapped. It was too easy, they were in the closet. I felt so excited in having found them, and the cool Alladin and Barbie stuff I was going to get.
Then, Christmas day, I remember opening presents and thinking, "Shit. This isn't nearly as fun as it usually is because I know what everything is already."
And I never went looking again. To this day, I still place high value on the thrill of the surprise.

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