|the eldest and youngest with their Granny. She has her coffee mug in her hand|
and will soon be lighting up the first cigarette.
Christmas day dawns and we open presents put the turkey in the oven and get the vegetables on the go. Eventually we sit down to eat and we all enjoy our dinner, pulling crackers and wearing silly hats ( perhaps I'll tell the tale of Hannah and the paper hat one day, although without the physical actions it loses a little...). We doze in front of the TV for a while and then play silly games until the small ones collapse in tears of exhaustion.
Some time in the days that follow one of us will go to the pantry or the fridge and move something. "Oh look," we'll say "A jar of cranberry sauce, weren't we meant to have that with the turkey?" then we'll laugh and it will get forgotten until November when we scrape out the contants into the food recycling bin and wash the jar and put it in the glass recycling box and the next time we go shopping we say "Don't forget the cranberry sauce for the turkey".
This is a tradition now, it has to be as we have been performing the ritual every year for the last 34 Christmasses.
This has been written in response to the idea of a Christmas Story Club devised by Sian at FromHighInTheSky. Why not take a look at the other stories now that you've read mine?