random truths – Day 1,013 (Sunday) – Christmas Day night

There was no white Christmas at The BungaLowell, except for the Bing Crosby - Danny Kaye movie watched a couple nights ago and the coating of chalky, dried solution used to treat the roads a few days ago for the temperature drop and icy conditions. The yard has a sad, scratchy, patchy, uneven and windblown coating of snow.

The day was chilly, but not brutally cold, with temps in the 20s. The sun was out, the traffic was light, and the heated seats and steering wheel made for a comfortable ride to Mom’s. Twenty-five miles to the west, it was minimally whiter, with the remnants of the snow that fell there with Friday’s storm. 

A few of us Whos met in Whoville for some roast beast with potatoes, vegetables, and too many pies. And now it’s time to deal with the leftovers and holiday bloat and weight gain. Between all the food from Christmas Eve at my house and then what Mom sent me home with after dinner, there is an obscene volume of leftovers. Not to mention the all the candy. Oy.

Compared to 2020, this was a calm day. On Christmas Day 2020 my old Honda died on Route 2 en route to Mom’s and it was AAA to the rescue with a tow and Mom and StepDad to the rescue with a ride to Mom’s and a loaner car to get back home. That was stressful and expensive.

Last Christmas Day, much like many before it, featured Christmas movies playing on Mom’s TV. My ideal Christmas Day today would have been sitting on my own couch wrapped in a blanket and watching Christmas movies, especially after waking up with a headache, but I could tell Mom was feeling a bit sad yesterday when I was undecided about coming for dinner today.

As I drove to Mom’s, I wondered if we’d have A Christmas Story playing in the background or some other movie. The joke was on me, though. The TV at Mom’s played National Geographic Channel or Smithsonian Channel or some other channel with no Christmas shows all day, even after I asked about Christmas movies a couple times. 

While eating and talking and playing Scrabble after dinner I pushed to the background the shows with a segment about Miami and the filming of Scarface and others about natural wonders and water supplies and other things I wasn’t interested in today. I wanted a stupid Christmas movie. Any one would have worked. 

Iced cookie!

The parental withholding of Christmas movies felt like some sort of psychological warfare and made me want to watch them even more. As soon as I got home, the TV was turned on and I finally got my Christmas movies on Christmas Day while stuffing my face with iced Christmas cookies baked, decorated, and sent by my niece in Vegas. It may not have been the ideal day I had yearned for, but at least I had the night.