Holiday Narrative

So this winter break I celebrated Christmas. However, in my family this is a huge event. As soon as relatives arrive, we are on family lock down. You are not allowed to leave the house without first asking because you are required to hang out with all of the relatives you do not like and do not know the names of. This year we were lucky because we only had our grandmas here for Christmas and then one set of aunts and uncles for Christmas dinner.

Last year we lost our power on Christmas and had to find all these candles and flashlights. So this year when I woke up and saw the lights on my alarm clock still working I was thrilled. Until I went down stairs and nearly froze to death because we lost our heating this year. (It has to be a holiday thing because New Year’s day our heating went out again.)

The real thing that was the icing on the cake was that somehow my family got me to set the table and was the fancy cups that could not go in the dishwasher. I was fine with this because I have to make the table look cool and there was only eight cups up until Christmas day. When the number was suddenly went to 30 cups. I can say I was not thrilled to hear this.

I was not even my fault! Apparently, you need three cups each at big dinners. One cup for wine, one for water (so you do not get drunk), and one for a choice drink like milk or soda. So by the time it was over I had to wash 30 fancy, very expensive, glass, and very breakable cups.

However, I did get many cool things for Christmas. So having to hand wash 30 cups is a fair price… I guess. Let us see… the only other note worthy thing that happened over break was my annual purge-my-room-of-all-the-crap-that-is-sitting-in-it week.

Basically I take my trashed teenaged room make it more trashed throw out a bunch of things and donated a bunch of cloths. Finally I can see my carpet again. Although, I think I liked it better when I could not. I never knew that it was such an ugly tan color. I want to bleach it or something but my mom will not let me she says that it would kill all my brain cells or something. But I told her that school already had killed all the useful brain cells anyway and that it would not matter. I do not think that I really need to say that she is less than impressed with me.

So then she sent me up to my now clean room with an ugly carpet to do all the homework that I have skillfully avoided until now. However, I guess it is a good thing that she is making me do all of it. So as she says I can “make something of yourself [myself] and pay for my [my mom’s] retirement”. Also so I can get a good job and pay for her care in her old, moldy, wrinkly, prehistoric age.