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So! It’s Christmas.

Usually/before, my life dictated that yesterday on Christmas Eve I go to my Oma’s (German mum’s mum) house to celebrate German Christmas (which is like normal Christmas, just involves more alcohol, more food and the constant need to do shots). Then everyone goes to sleep in a drunken slumber, which allows Santa to do his thing, everyone wakes up far too early. My dad would always stay in bed, refused to join the morning present opening because he was always too tired for some mysterious reason. We then would get ready for Christmas at my Nanna’s (Non-German dad’s mum) house (which usually involves less alcohol, but this is compensated by the final pièce de résistance, Christmas Pudding flambéed with brandy, and brandy sauce, and quite possibly the best home made ice cream to grace this earth). My dad on both nights would always overstay his welcome, the hosts of both nights would try to politely usher him out, whilst he would agree to… after his quadruple gin and tonic. Which always seemed to magically ‘refresh’ itself. On one occasion, my Oma said he could take the glass home and finish it off in the car. Which surprisingly worked, but she did have to throw in the rest of the bottle of gin to seal the deal.

This year, of course, because I can’t post without being a complete and utter downer. Even on Christmas. This year, is different. German Christmas was at my house this year, which was supposedly ‘easier for us’. From all the empty glasses and dirty plates scattered around my house, I don’t really see where this conclusion came from. Gave me the chance to get everyone completely and utterly wasted, which was enjoyable. You know you’ve done the job, when your grandma starts referring to herself in third person.

“Oma is good. She is happy. She is drunk.”

I should probably take this time to admit, and this is a pretty big thing to admit to. I didn’t really drink yesterday. I couldn’t. Mainly because I had my work Christmas party the night before… which was a disaster… a story for another post. But lets just say I couldn’t even keep down Hydralyte, let alone anything until 3pm the next day (yesterday) and I have no memory of how I got home or the end of the night but what I do remember is cringe worthy at it’s most distressing. e.g. I can’t remember how I ended this sentence, only the start… “So I know I shouldn’t say this, because A) you’re my manager and B) It’s completely politically incorrect, but…” …and that’s not even bad in comparison to the other fun facts… need I say more.


So as I couldn’t drink, I decided to make shots and cocktails until my twin sister ran in to the kitchen to make coffee (or maybe it was more of a drunken stumble looking back),

“Caitlin, everyone’s drunk! Like, everyone. Oma is off her face. I don’t know why, but her face is currently covered in glitter. I think she motor-boated a stripper.”

Me: “…Excellent…”

Today is going to be at my Nanna’s, which is probably the more scary part. My Nanna received her first chemo treatment 6 days ago. She is not in the best state… Pretty unfair of my dad, leaving when he did, purely for her sake… Could of at least waited the few months so she didn’t have to go through the unnatural process of mourning her own child, but that’s my dad. Always had to steal the limelight and make everything difficult.

One thing that remained unchanged. My dad still made it home for Christmas, his ashes were brought over yesterday. No matter what country he spent majority of his time in, Christmas was always back home.

Any how, this one’s going to be short and sweet, because it’s time to open presents. My sisters and I were given matching Christmas onesies last night… They light up with red LED lights around the hood that spell out ‘Ho Ho Ho’ and plays music… I have to go.

Merry Christmas! x