The Christmas Dinner...

And everything was fine until I found the fake fingernail in my mashed potatoes. I tried as best I could to contain my livid disgust; I could not however, and threw up on the festive holiday table with my relatives eyes frozen in disbelief.

Oh oh...One fine Christmas my older sister wanted to sit in the front seat of our car...but I got there first....so....she pulled me thru the open window by my hair, and dropped me in the gutter...but on the way down, I swung, and connected well enough to giver her a Christmas shiner.

Later during dinner, I was sat facing her, and smirked at her and when nobody was looking, I pointed at my eye, and winked.

She erupted, and all hell broke loose.

It was really great for all the grandma ladies and churchies to see how things were in the Jungle that was out house.

I think I got beat up later.

(edited because it made no point before)

[ Edited by: gigantalope on 2004-12-02 00:06 ]

Grandma choked on a cherry tomato and then threw up on her plate..... holiday memories......

Does a x-mas Eve dinner count? it was my parents, me, my teenage bro and my sister's druggie loswer boyfriend. my sister had been smart enough to go visit the estranged aunt & uncle that night.
my teenage bro and my father were NOT getting along during that time.

my brother took issue with the fact that the shrimp on the shrimp salad were not fully defrosted and still, possibly, frozen. my father took issue with this complaint against my mother's culinary skills. an argument ensued, testosterone flew, and a fight broke out.

my mother retreated to the bathroom, locked the door and took a bath. wouldn't talk to us. she had never done that before.

druggie loser boyfriend got on the phone with my sis and was whispering "would you come back, please ... now?"

in typical Danger family fashion, the rest of us sat there trying to eat and not talking about it.

My Aunt would always bring the same thing to Grandma's dinner......not quite jelled jello. I guess she would never start it early enough. She would also get a headache after dinner and want to leave so she wouldn't have to help clean up. My Uncle would stuff his coat pockets with dinner rolls when he thought no one was watching.

WOW, it's hard to believe these stories are true. They sound like "Meet The Fokkers" or something.

Don't worry Bong, the reason I had to edit is because I left a word out.

[ Edited by: Jungle Trader on 2004-12-01 21:10 ]

Did anybody ever dine whilst viewing the King Family?

I wish I had a fake nail (or a rusty one) to choke on thinking back on those shows.

The Christmas when I was 6, I decided that I would add my own personal touch to my mom's annual Caesar's Salad routine.

Each year she'd perform the 'Caesar's Salad Ceremony' that concluded with her making a big-armed gesture of cracking a hard boiled egg against the inside rim of a giant wooden salad bowl. She'd then peel and slice the egg into the salad.

I switched her hard boiled egg in the fridge for a regular uncooked egg.

As she concluded her ceremony, she struck the egg against the salad bowl, and promptly released raw egg down the side of the bowl into the salad.

I thought it was pretty funny and I smirked. She took umbrage with my jovial state and started beating me with her salad mixing fork and spoon. Vinagrette flew in arcs like gore from Lizzie Borden's ax.

My brother, who was 25 at the time and visiting with his wife said it may be best if she were to cease battering me about the head and shoulders with stainless steel utensils, so she started to berate "the bastard" whilst I continued to try to deflect her blows.

"The bastard's" wife felt the need to chime in, but was far to repressed to do so in any direct manner, so she proceeded to shout "in tongues" - which was some noise that would make Mush Mouth tell Fat Albert to shut the fuck up, but in retrospect, sounds a little like Dutch. Anyway, it was basically a totally unintelligible cacophony. It's probably how we sound to a cat when we yell at them.

My mom told her to shut the fuck up as well, and I recall this vividly - was so upset that she was spitting as she yelled.

My dad was visiting, and he said he'd seen enough and announced that he was leaving, with all the gifts he had brought.

My mom said something that included the horse he rode in on.

He stormed out, as was his style at the time, followed by my brother and his blubbering bride. As he left, my brother made his yearly vow to never speak to my mother again, proving that even the most dysfunctional family can still have its traditions, after all.

My sister and her husband just shook their heads silently and left, while my mom called them foul names for what she took as them taking my brother's side.

Yup, that was the year that I actually started the annual Christmas family fight. After that year, the rest of the family resumed their more traditionl roles of antagonist/antagonist, which was OK. I had had my moment in the sun.

And that was a mild year!

[ Edited by: Geeky Tiki on 2004-12-01 23:01 ]

Geekytiki-that sounds like a whale of a good time!Nothing like putting the "fun" in dysfunctional.

So, I had this hot looking filipina girlfriend at the time, who invited me to spend thanksgiving with her family, She mentioned her dad liked to take shots, so I brought over the Jaegermonster. He already had some other type of liquer, so we are trading shots as he is questioning me about my life, ambitions, future..you know, the usual stuff a dad grills his daughter's new boyfriend with...
Well, dinner is served, and I eat a bit. Then he pours me another shot of the jaeger. This one came back up. I puked into the shot glass, which overflowed. Then horribly, I puked again, this time reaching for my actual dinner plate. I splattered Jaegermiester flavored vomit all over the table, over and over, until I had veins popping in my neck. Her whole family, grandma, everyone was just sitting there in total horror!

She broke up with me soon after.

On a related note (and this is slightly x rated, so don't read on if you get offended)

I finally scored a date with the finest, most voluptuous italian-american girl you have ever seen! I went out on one date, everything was fine. The next date occured on a Friday, and as luck would have it, I had been farting for hours before the date, and actually had a bad stomache ache and nausea..Well, normally I would cancel, but I really liked this chick, (and so did a lot of other guys who were waiting in the wings) so I still went and took her out. We had dinner, and I started feeling a bit better, and only had to excuse myself a few times and go to the head. After dinner, she wanted to go home. Phew! I had made it through, and was just planning on a nice kiss goodnight, but she had other plans. She grabbed me by my tie and dragged me inside her place, telling me the date was not finished yet.

Well after making out for a while, we started to, well, you know!

Her room was very quiet..so quiet you could only hear the clock ticking. It was like time had stood still. So, here I am, working it like I never worked it before, when all of a sudden, it happened! The loudest, wettest sounding fart emitted from my ass IN MY WHOLE LIFE!! It was dark, but her eyes lit up like a gaffed fish, (and to her credit), she tried to pretend she had not noticed..her movements slowed a bit, but she kept on going. Then, we both noticed the smell..rotten beef, old beer, rancid gin, garbage disposal backed-up..that would be a polite way to describe it! It was more like when your dog farts..you know how stinky that can be? The whole small room filled up with this fetid and funky smell. I was humiliated, and left immediately.

The perverse part of the story is that on the way home, in my car, I just could not staop laughing..I actually had to pull over. Do you ever have that type of laughter where you are afraid you won't be able to stop? That's it baby!

The very next day I called to apolgize, and she answered the phone "oh, hey YOU!"

We never dated again.

Well, this story pales in comparison to those already posted, but there was the year my cousin and I ruined Christmas.

We were both very young, and discovered that in my parents bathroom all of the x-mas presents were "hidden" or stored or whatever - it was a few days before x-mas or maybe x-mas eve day - I don't remember. Without a second thought, we locked ourselves in the bathroom and started opening all the presents!

we immediately tossed aside the "boring" presents (anything that was not a toy, e.g., sweaters) but opened everything, not just addressed to us but everyone - mom dad, sister, brother, aunts & uncles...

we started playing with the toys and were having a grand old time until my suspicious sister knocked on the door and said "what are you guys doing in there?" she was probably hoping to float a rumor that we were making out but this was much much better. there was no way we could hide it or undo the damage so we stayed locked in there for hours, refusing to open the door to receive our punishment.

I don't really remember what happened after that. I was pretty young, and easily misled, apparently, by my redneck cousin.

A woman goes into a tattoo parlour and tells the tattoo artist that she wants a tattoo of a Santa Claus on her right thigh right up just below her bikini line. She also wants him to put "Merry Christmas" under the turkey.
So the guy does it and it comes out looking real good.

The woman then instructs him to put a champagne bottle with "Happy New Year" up on her left thigh.

So the guy does it and it comes out looking good too.

As the woman is getting dressed to leave, the tattoo artist says, "If you don't mind, could you tell me why you had me put such unusual tattoos on your thighs?"

She says, "I'm sick and tired of my husband complaining all the time that there's nothing good to eat between Christmas and New Year's Eve."

One Christmas morning, as a small child, I fell into the toilet and got stuck while trying to poop. I was pretty humiliated as my older sister just pointed and laughed while mom and dad pulled me out!

"FreakBear's Christmas Tail"
Makes for great keepsakes!

[ Edited by: Gigantalope on 2004-12-03 08:03 ]

On 2004-12-02 10:46, tiki mick wrote:
. Do you ever have that type of laughter where you are afraid you won't be able to stop?

Holy shit dude!!! I haven't laughed like that in quite a while. I''m having trouble stopping as I write. I had tears man, tears!

[ Edited by: FLOUNDERart on 2004-12-03 11:27 ]

Flounder, glad you liked it! it's all true, of course!

I told this story to my whole office unit, during a xmas luncheon one year..not a dry eye in the whole room!

I still receive "get well soon" cards from some of them!

FFFFFRRRRRRRRAAAAAAATTTTTTTTT-PLOP!!!

My uncle Jay, who was a right bastard and complete asshole but I loved him anyhow, was in an accident on a construction site in the mid-80s that left him paralyzed from the waist down. While Jay was physically capable of leaving the house, with wheelchairs & an adapted van he could drive and the whole shebang, he pretty much didn't leave his house from the 80s until he passed away last year. He collected disability, laid in his bed all day, and spent most of his time buying ridiculous things from catalogs and constantly recording movies off of each of the three televisions that were always running in his apartment.

Since Jay couldn't/didn't leave his apartment, we had Christmas at his place for a few years.

Jay's apartment was dark, cluttered, and as I mentioned before, had TVs blaring constantly. Jay didn't particularly enjoy wearing clothes, so when he had visitors, he would "get dressed" by throwing a towel across his lap. For Christmas, he'd make it a festive seasonal towel, and every year, he could be counted on to point out that he had a new "Christmas outfit."

Since the apartment was rather cramped even without the family there, a tree wasn't practical... so every year, our "tree" was a string or two of Christmas lights tacked to the wall in a rough outline of a tree, not unlike a child might make.

So we spent our holiday huddled around the outline of an xmas tree, balancing a plate of mediocre cold food on our laps, trying to ignore the three different R-rated movies playing at once (for some reason, with the volume on), hoping and praying that Jay's Christmas outfit wouldn't fall off.

It was all pretty miserable, but on the plus side, at least we didn't argue.

Support the Hukilau! - Bid on items in the Hukilau auction!

[ Edited by: Humuhumu on 2004-12-03 17:51 ]

In my family, it's not unusual for someone to end up in the Emergency Room on Christmas Day. One of my great-uncles busted his knee while playing football in the street one year. All the excitement of Santa's visits tended to set off my little brother's asthma. I have been spared (so far)!

Tiki Mick - I was laughing so hard when I read your post I was afraid my co-workers would think I'd lost my mind. Damn that's funny!!

For some weird reason (never fully explained to my satisfaction) my dad had this family "tradition" that dictated everyone had to eat a big bowl of oyster stew on Christmas Eve. I hated oyster stew and still do. It's like a bunch of stinky shellfish swimming around in warm milk...yuk! It took a helluva lot of oyster crackers for me to choke that stuff down.

One Christmas as a lad, my grandfather hauled in some ridiculously ancient movie camera rig. He was talking it up for quite a while, and i thought nothing of it. This would've been late 70's or early 80's at best -- well before the commonality of the camcorder. Coats were off, greetings made and soon it was time to open presents. My sister and I were directed to the middle of the room on the floor and presented with the grandparents gifts. I just assumed it was the normal drill, when all of a sudden the room was aflood with a supernatural amount of light. It was all I could do to squint downward into the carpet. He insisted we look directly into the camera, so I forced my squinting eyes upward to vaguely make out 2 human sillouettes and 4' wide rack of 8 or more high-wattage flood lights. He persisted that we look "up" but it was just physically impossible. This seemed to go on for an eternity, I couldn't even see and don't even remember the gift I was trying to open. Someone finally coaxed the old guy into letting up with the filming. Somewhere amungst our family's home movies is 30 seconds of My sister and I under 10-plus daylight, pleading like ants under a magnifying glass. I can still feel the heat on my forehead!

Well, lets just say dads side of the family gad ancestors who fought in the Confederate Army. Moms side of the family had ancestors who were in the Union Army.

We would line up on either side of the table like Lee and Grant at Gettysburg.

The carnage was usaually total.

One year my mother made everyone sit in alternating order so the particpants weren't lined up on either side.

That one looked more like Shiloh.

Sometimes the night would end with my mother smashing plates because that was what her therapist said she should do. Some sort of primal scream thing I guess.

So shes smashing plates, and dad ( we have pictures to prove this ) is passed out on the couch. But not passed out like you or I would sprawled out. Nope. He's zonked, but sitting straight up, with a Budweiser clutched in a death grip. And you knew it was a bad idea to try and try to remove it from said grip.

Now somebody tell me why we celebrate this thing again?

TG

Hey TG, were you being artisticly using metaphore, or were both sides of the family at odds about the North/South thing?

It's been my experiance that the southern folks hold on to the grudge of the war more, but are typically more polite.

Northern folks often have the preconcieved ideas that people with a Southern accent are thick, unrefined...

Where did all of this occur?

Oh it was a real deal thing. There was more to it, but the North South thing was the strong foundation upon which rested the predictable results.

I have the distinction of being born in the south, but being raised by a fmily with strong affinity with the northern "liberal" tradition. My Grandfather (on my mothers side) was an organiser for the union movement of the thirties. A fact that didn't go over very well with the southern breathren.

My great great great grand father (on my fathers side) was a signator of the articles of secession of South Carolina.

The only thing that didn't enter the fray was religion. Niether side was religious.

When I go back to the south, it is my home. But every time I see a stars and bars flag on some yokels pick up, I can;t help myself from saying; "The south was wrong, you lost, get over it."

That usually would start off a good Christmas evening also.

TG

edited to claify which sides of the family the grandfathers were on.

[ Edited by: tikigardener on 2004-12-05 12:54 ]

Any good Suth'n hoilday cookin you want to share?

Part of my Family is from the South and very periodically (like on X-mas) there would be the wierdest foods. Plum Puddings (with Suet) was one...Grits being my least favorite.

Anybody else get local wierd Christmas foods? Pone? Scrapple? Glug? Ludefisk??

Donchu go bad mouthin grits son...

One of my faves.

TG

Hominy based foods make my skin creep. Corn mush I don't mind tho.

Do you make em from scratch or use "QuickGrits?" (tm)

I've heard folks eat them like malto-meal sweetend, but only seen them accented with cheese and pepper.

Also do you say "Flapjack""Hot Cake" "Griddle Cake" or "Pancake"?

Also share any insights you may have involving Hushpuppies son (said like foghornleghorn)

I'm a butter, salt and pepper grits eater.
sweatened grits make MY skin crawl.

And since I a product of Ameircan marketing, its the pancake. Yes not very southern, but when the package says it, thats what it becomes. Package, yup thats what I said. Mom was a working girl, so things had to be quick to make.

I'll ask my mom for my dads hobo stew recipe. I remember it as being quite tastey.
And he made a split pea soup recipe that was supposedly from his great grandfather.

I remember when we moved to socal, none of the stores carried grits, or yellow rice. They looked at my mom as though she was from mars. But they started carrying them!

I'll ask if she or other members of the southern side of the family have any secret recipes.

TG