Merry Fxxxing Christmas

We had some extended family. Dad thought we should experience all facets of life. He said it helps to know where you came from and if your weren't careful where you might end up. My mom came from a family of 8 children. Dad ran a little with moms brothers when they were younger. They were all in Muncie. Over the course of our childhood I guess you could say that things were a little strained between my father and my mothers side of the family. The most prolific event is one I like to refer to as "Merry Fxxxing Christmas". You see, we spent our time visiting Gandma and Gandpa and Uncle Kenny. We liked that the family was close by and we had somewhere to go. One Christmas, we made the journey to see moms side of the family. It must have been around the same time frame that we owned the motorhome (the one we used to walk the dog on vacation). Dad and Uncle Larry and Uncle Russel dissappeared for sometime while all the cousins played with us. There were aunts and uncles in and out. There were cousins in and out. Everyone was having a grand old time. Of course, we knew that Grandma had her favorites in Pats boys. They were a rough bunch. Nice enough but with all the trappings you might expect when you were raising 4 boys, pretty close in age at the same time. They were missing some major social components that are usually instilled when there is a larger presence of estrogen in the house. For example, most young boys learn from their mothers early on that you don't water the trees in the backyard with your wanker in mixed company. The Zachary boys lacked this social skill. The way they spoke implied that the world existed to serve them. They did not differentiate between adults and children in their eyes they all sucked equally. I believe Aunt Pat dealt with them using the "choose your battle" method of parenting. She realized that if she were going to keep her grip on reality, she would have to only chop off the bigh limbs and let the little ones hit the ground. Grandma thought they were little diminutive greek gods. She loved her some Jay-bird. Jimmy & Brian ranked high on the Grandma scale and then there was Barry. Grandma didn't seem to mind the lack of social graces. She loved them the best and we were accepting of the fact. In our family, Grandma of course loved us too. She loved "floppy" the most. Floppy was a name she gave Kevin because of some incident with his ears. ( I love my brother, but I think he might have gotten the name from Mom holding her close to her bosom 4 years longer than was socially responsible. They actually could have gotten the "got milk" ad campaign from the leftovers he carried on his face) Grandma loved him the most. Mom loved him the most. That boy was over loved.

So here we are. At Grandma and Grandpa's house. Lots of kids, lots of adults lots of presents. It had the makings of a helluva Christmas. Dad and Larry and Russell ( Uncle Tom must have been somewhere, I honestly don't remember) had been gone for sometime and we had been busy watching the Zachary Boys Show. Presents had been doled out, not a small feat. The Davis's numbered a plenty. So the gifts on any level had to be prohibitive. We were happy. Happy to have a Christmas. Then something happend that changed it all. As would happen at a lot of holidays there was some large sampling of alcoholic beverages. In fact, there must have been a bartender with Dad and the Uncled because they were all drunk and pissed with they got back from where ever they had been. There were some words spoken and then some extra words spoken. Then Dad decided to take a stand. It was time to right all the wrongs that had been done to our family since him and mom had taken their vows. The speech was one that could have been published. It was one that I would hear many different versions of as I grew up. It did not have a familiar ring at this ripe young age. But it amounted to this, my Dad raised his voice by a few octaves. Then he announced " you folks have taken advantage of my family for the last time, we are done. We are no longer a part of this family" " Betty Jo, get the kids, leave the presents, we're going home" "Merry Fxxxing Christmas"and just like that, for the next several years we did not associate with that side of the family except when mom would sneak us over on the occasional visit. One for the record books.