With all the expectation and excitement of a kid from 2 to 14, I loved Xmas. I loved hauling the plastic tree and decorations out of the attic. Each year we would speculate on if this was the year the box would disintegrate and magically return to the earth in a ball of dust. Our tree had a system of colour coded branches that were inserted into corresponding slots on a  dark green pole. The first suggestion that I was colour blind was borne here, as I was trying to put 16″ plastic branches somewhere near the top of the tree because the “green” dots says so.

The Nativity scene at the base of the tree would fascinate me to no end. We had a little wooden manger with thin ceramic figurines covered in glitter and glued on straw. What I fixated on was the hole behind the baby Jesus. Why was Jesus hollow? I would make little morality plays with those figurines, loosely based on Space 1999 episodes I had seen that week.

“Oh Space Commander Joseph! The Alien Baby Jezus is here to obliterate the Moonbase!”

Our parents would have epic dinner parties too. Mom, with her Italian upbringing, would start cooking 3 weeks in advance. The centre piece would make the dining room table, which could seat 8, sag in the middle. The best was sneaking peeks into the dining room through the kitchen swing door or sitting on the front stairs, listening (and not understanding) the racey conversation. It’s where I learned words like “Bastard” and “Dick”. When I used them in the school yard I was sure to add the “Polite laughter” after saying each curse.

The actual Xmas day event would be very early in the morning. We’d tear into the gifts as mom and dad nursed their coffees. By 7 am we would be done with the gift frenzy, and we’d start the Great Family Cram into the 4-door station wagon for the 5 hour trip to Toronto. 5 days where we’d ping pong back and forth between two grandparents, where the teens of the family would want to venture into the creepy downtown of Toronto for the boxing day sales. Where the younger kids would scream and run through the house, sharing curse words newly learned. Where adults sneered at each other and their brood. But the car ride I remember the most: if you want an idea of what 5 kids on a 5 hour road trip is like, replay National Lampoon’s Vacation 6 times with only two stops to pee the whole time. I have no clue how my parents did this and not divorce sooner. The things they did for us, for family.