Prepping for Christmas

Within a couple of months, In this holy year of 2005, the Drake family needs to begin planning Christmas. Why so early, you ask, you little cutie?

My whole family is coming home.

The Original Drake family is not that large. We don't really hang out with anyone from my parent's families except my super adorable Aunt Nancy. Occasionally, my Mom and Nancy's brother Frank slips into the mix. Side note on Unkie Frank: he was a sailor in the navy and has many large, imposing tattoos. He blames the tats for the lack of warm fuzziness from his fellow senior citizens in AZ. I personally believe that he gets no love from the oldies because he punctuates every thought with "okay" and is generally an insane person. Last year for Christmas, he signed my Christmas card "Love, Dad."

Even without extended family, half of the children in my family have families. So that makes 12 of us. Now, back in good ole Denver CO, our house is a large ranch-style with a sweet basement. Currently, the basement houses my Papa Bear's puzzles and some camping gear. In December it will house the Northern Cali branch of the Drakes--Stewart, Elaine, Joshua, and Sarah. According to my mom, my room will sleep me and my sister, the middle bedroom will sleep the Dallas Drake-Utleys, and my parents' bedroom will contain my parents as per usual. 12 people, my darlings.

I was on the phone with Moms today and told her that she was setting herself up for "a Very Special Christmas Disaster."

Moms likes us to make our beds, hide our suitcases, and wipe down the shower door when we're finished using the tub. Failure to complete these tasks makes her "nervous." I mentioned that with every roll-away bed she wheels into the family room, she is setting herself up for haphazard sheets, grimy bathrooms, and trampled carpets. I told her that no one would mind getting a hotel (I even volunteered, isn't that kind of me?). After dicsussing the options, she agreed.

The potential hitches in our get-along don't end at sleeping arrangements. Apparently the Denver Broncos are playing the Oakland Raiders on Christmas Eve at 2PM. As faithful season ticket holders, my family would be unable to pass up this chance to openly despise the opposing team. I said, "Great! Some of us can go to the game, others can relax at home." Easy, right?

Wrong. They want us to go to their Christmas Eve service at their church. We went to this Southern Baptist church for Christmas Eve one fateful year about 3 years ago, and let me assure you that the preacher's polo shirt and Dockers did little to inspire me. If it wasn't for a captivating little baby in the row ahead of me that wouldn't stop smiling and drooling on itself, I wouldn't have made it through alive. So this year's service is at 630PM. The men at the game would have to walk over, and we womens would have to meet them there. Jesus is really going to have to be watching over us to make it all work out.

Christmas dinner? I say, rent a tent and put some heaters in the backyard. It's 12 people, you guys. The guest list includes 3 big men, 2 growing men, and 7 adult women. Let's get the caterers on this one, don't you think?

And WHAT are we going to do for fun? Picture 11 more of me, and you can imagine what my family is like. They're not carbon copies, obviously, because one of them does this annoying whispering thing with other people standing two feet away, and another tells totally unfunny jokes non-stop, and another hates Jews (just kidding--it's the blacks that get under his skin). But we're mostly the same kind of fun-loving, outgoing personality of my Mom. I guess we won't have trouble entertaining each other with popcorn strings for the tree and baking the infamous Drake Cranberry Tea Cake...

I also suggested that we avoid any futher Christmas expenditures by doing Secret Santa. This would be great if my Dad or Johnny Utley (age 18) had completed ANY Christmas shopping in the past, well, ever. But the wives and moms will do their shopping for them at an exponentially higher stress rate. Lauren Utley is 17 and will buy something pink and fuzzy no matter who she's giving it to. I will probably end up with Joshua, who is studying in a Canadian Seminary to be a minister, and he probably won't think a cock ring is a funny gift at all.

But, in the end, the real gift is all of us being in one place together. My parents would really love to see that idea come to fruition. They have dedicated thier lives to their children and been there for every event--buying cars, job switches, injuries, meals, yelling, crying, weddings, births, graduations. So now it's time to do something THEY want to do, which is have all their loved ones in one place at one time. No whining, anti-social behavior, sex, or bad-mouthing the Lord.

I am a mid-twenties, spiky haired chick nicknamed HellCat who should be way cooler than this. But I'll tell you what...I can hardly wait.

jingle bells. g