Memorable Christmas Catastrophes

Christmas catastrophes. There's no other way to describe them. Some people most likely remember the gift giving or receiving. Many memories likely involved family relations-you know, the bickering in-laws, the kids running all over the place, mothers and mothers-in-law with too much advice for the agitated cook. But most catastrophes happened in the kitchen, or were otherwise related to a dinner that was supposed to be special. We've all heard about the inexperienced cooks who tried to roast turkeys that were frozen solid, maybe in time for next Christmas. Everybody needs a sense of humor to cope with the holidays.

I couldn't have been more than 10 at the time, but I'll never forget this Christmas...about 3 days before, (Friday) school finally let out, after I swore that the clock was moving backwards. Dressed like that kid in the Christmas movie, where he can't put his arms down, my friends and I decided to go sledding. Christmas break! Why not? I had one of those disc sleds, and my little sister in front of me. I go to give us a running start (off of this monumentally large hill-at least to a 10-year-old) and run from about 15 feet back toward my sister.

I missed. I ran, jumped, and landed behind her, but enough to get us both going down the hill. She's flying at warp speed, and I'm there on my rear end chasing her. All of a sudden one of the ramps that the kids had made so they could catch air with their sleds, maliciously jumped in front of me, not my sister, and I hit it, hard. I'm not in the air, and I see the snow going faster us the hill...when...WHACK! My face hits the snow. I eventually make it to the bottom of the hill, on my eyelids, but ran the rest of the way home, I run into my house screaming that my nose was torn off from the sledding "experience" and my mother just laughed hysterically. She said, "Erin, your nose wasn't ripped off! It's packed with snow." After this incident, the family went out to get our tree.

My dad loves Christmas. His whole year is one long wait for Christmas. His favorite part of Christmas is the tree. We all go together and cut down the "perfect" tree. The problem is that Dad's perfect tree is based on criteria known to him. This always leads to tears on someone's part.