What's Christmas without a little joy? A little laughter? A little Why did we do that? a few days after?
My family's most consistent holiday tradition is a bit of silliness to celebrate the season, although "a bit" might be an understatement. (It's far more accurate to say we enjoy intense bursts of foolishness, followed by naps on various cushy pieces of furniture.) Case-in-point: one year, we gave ourselves marshmallow teeth.
There was the year my sister opened a special gift from Santa that contained her unfinished supper. (Truth be told, the next year, I started throwing away my dinner plate upside-down. If my uneaten food fell to the bottom of the trash can, no one could prove I hadn't finished my dinner, and there would be no surprise gifts for me under the tree. Once, my uncle complimented my strategy for keeping residue off of the garbage can lid. I didn't admit the truth.)
Since then, there have been funny gifts like the What's your poo telling you? calendar and the singing reindeer antlers; there have been pranks, marshmallow shooters, and sock wars (imagine a dozen people gathered in a living room hurling balls of socks--some worn, some not--at one another).
One year, we all gathered around to read a story together. It was called Walter the Farting Dog.
Sometimes we wear giftwrap--
Sometimes we wear matching cowboy boots, and sometimes we dress up as Darth Vader--
Want to know the best part? These Christmas Capers? They started before I was born--