Christmas begins on Christmas Eve. We always have lasagna for dinner and angel food cake for dessert. This tradition began when I was a kid, when we were part of a church that had a really great children's choir. My brother and I both sang in it, so we'd sing the Christmas Eve service, which started around 5-- but of course we had to be there earlier for warm-ups and stuff. Anyway, it made for a really long evening and we were always starving when we were done, so Mom started making lasagna because she could put it in the oven before we left for church and when we got back it'd be ready to eat. Don't have the funky scheduling anymore, but we still have the lasagna.

Then we open our ornaments. Since I was five, Mom has made each of us a Christmas ornament every year, usually cross-stitched. We open them Christmas Eve and hang them on the tree, then maybe sing a bit, then go to bed after thirty minutes' negotiation of how early we're allowed to get up. The answer is always the same-- seven, and must remain quiet and not wake the parents till eight-- but every year the kids try and push it back. One sign for my brother and me (there are two sets of kids in my family, my brother and me, eighteen months apart in age, and then six years later our little brother and sister, two years apart) that we were getting old is that we stopped fighting to get up earlier. But the younger two still carry on the dispute.

In the morning, the younger kids wake me and my brother up, and we go unpack our stockings, which Mom and Dad filled after we went to bed. There is always a small stuffed animal sticking out the top of each, but after that, the contents vary year to year. We ooh and aah and play with whatever we got until wakeup time for Mom and Dad comes. Then Mom starts on breakfast, which is usually scrambled eggs, and always sweet pecan rolls (my grandmother's recipe). During breakfast, our dog gets into the chocolate from our stockings that somebody invariably leaves out, despite our repeated reminders to each other. After breakfast is all cleaned up, it is finally present time. Dad gets a clipboard to write down the items sent to us by relatives and godparents, so we can remember to write them thank-you letters. Mom gets a big trash bag to put all the wrapping paper in so it doesn't take an hour to clean up. We take turns opening one at a time, starting with the youngest. That used to put me pretty early in the game... now I'm in the second half of the lineup. Weird.

After that, tradition breaks down and we spend the rest of the day hanging around. Usually for dinner we have something like pot roast.

Lire"yummy... pot roast... me want Christmastime"lyn