Of all of the beautiful and sentimental Christmas traditions in our family, I believe one of my favorites is between Grandma Jane’s main squeeze, Mike Buchanan, and me.
You see, every year, at Christmas, we give each other the gift of the ridiculous, but a few years ago, I got him the ultimate ridiculousness.
With baited breath, he opened up his beautifully and tastefully wrapped present from me, and beheld a naked rubber chicken from The Dollar Store.
It was a thing of beauty. Completely tacky, looking like something you would have found in Steve Martin’s dressing room, it even smelled that awful cheap rubber smell.
He immediately placed that absurd naked foul on the Christmas tree. And there it sat: a symbol of all that is ridiculous and funny in our lives. A reminder not to take ourselves too seriously during the holidays, or any other time during the year. A reminder that no gift from me is too cheap or tasteless.
The next Christmas, I opened my gift from Mike….and there, lovingly nestled (crammed) in amongst the glittery tissue (re-used) was the beloved Christmas Chicken.
I immediately placed it on the Christmas tree, where it harkened all who beheld it to chuckle, grin, or silently wonder, “What the …..?”
And so it has gone, back and forth, and back, and forth at Christmas.
Until this year.
When I gave it to Mike for his Birthday.
But despite that little hiccup, this Christmas, under the tree, lay the same box I had given the chicken to Mike on his birthday.
You can tell by the cupcakes.
And of course, it was immediately opened, and given its exalted spot on the tree.
Don’t judge. Every family has its peculiarities.
Ours are just…more peculiar than others…..