Christmas casualties, and a willfully wrong card
We are Christmas people, although I’d argue we’re not “Christmas people.” It’s a big deal for our family with decoration, anticipation and celebration, yet simplicity sustains us. Sweet traditions have emerged and evolved over the years as children have emerged and evolved, but we keep it basic.
Christmas Eve has historically belonged to my in-laws with a quiet evening of pizza and presents. However, patriarchs have passed and Adam’s mother has moved, so that tradition is under construction. Much like life in general.
Christmas morning at our house has remained constant. The children wake to giftwrapped cookies on the breakfast table and sing a Happy Birthday song to Jesus. Some years even garner a cake. They typically find one or two treasures on the couch next to stockings stuffed with books and confections bought for each other from Chico’s Sweet Shoppe. Admittedly, the whole day is sweets.
Traditionally, my side gets Christmas day. After Grandma and Grandpa stop by to exchange gifts, we head over to Grammie and Papa Ted’s. There, we’re joined by my four siblings, spouses and children, for hours of indiscriminate candy consumption, brunching, lunching, present piles and games for adults and children alike.
I joke that the governor’s recommendation to limit family gatherings to three households will force my parents to finally reveal who their (ah-hem) second favorite child is, though not all of my relatives think canceling Christmas is a laughing matter.
Good thing the governor can’t cancel Christmas cards … or can he?
Christmas correspondence is a time-honored tradition, and the technological advancement of recent years has been a serious game changer. Filling friends and loved ones in on how tall Jaskson is, how fast Jillson can swim and just how damn joyful the Joneses are is now simpler and, with more restrictions looming, more essential than ever before.
Don’t get me wrong, I sincerely appreciate receiving each of these masterpieces. A plethora of pandemic periodicals and a cup of tea would be an ideal way to end 2020 in my opinion. I just can’t compete, and I love to win.
I’m not particularly gifted with creativity, although some would argue I’m not void. I’ve been told I have a way with words on an occasion. My ability to assemble ample alliterations serve to stimulate some social significance, but as far as graphic design goes, my abilities are asinine.
Subsequently, after receiving an abundance of cards in 2015, I felt it rude not to reciprocate. I pondered the possibilities and persuaded Adam to help me win at losing. If we couldn’t be known for having the best Christmas card, maybe, just maybe, we could be known for having the worst. Horrible graphics, terrible editing, colors too bright or too dim, no family update or heartfelt message of hope, just one shockingly silly scene, borderlining obscene, ready to ruin any holiday display … all in good fun, of course.
The gift of a Christmas cringe cannot be beat. I win.
The canvass for our 2016 catastrophe was cheetah print trimmed with a clipart string of colored lights. Neon red and green block letters spelled out, “HAPPY CHRISTMAS HOMIES!” above an awesomely posed 90’s boy band with our five faces photoshopped onto them. 2017 followed suit with the swap to a 90’s girl band singing, “What we really, really want is for you to have a happy Christmas”. It was really, really, really bad.
We lost our spark for creating Christmas casualties once the Camp Fire hit, but something about 2020 has rekindled my need for nonsense, so the game is back on.
This year’s card piggybacks on a painting of a wonderfully wintry holiday farm. Santa is seated atop a haystack lovingly surrounded by adoring farm animals. Since our family grew by five chickens this year, we thought it would be most inappropriate to photoshop each of our heads onto their bodies to replace Santa’s companions . “He’s making a list, CHICKEN it twice…”
Perfectly awful/awfully perfect? Either way, if anything can go right this year, it’ll be the willful wrongness of our 2020 Christmas card.