Christmas songs fill my mind as reality slowly takes shape around me. Following a night filled with eggnog, Hallmark movies, and cuddly clothes, the Jackson Christmas has arrived. After yet another year of waiting, the time has yet again come to embrace the joys of family togetherness.
Inspired by the joy of the holidays, I slowly sludge out of bed, feeling the soft carpet welcome my feet in a soft embrace. I very thankfully crumple to the ground, hoping to catch a post-sleep power nap before fully starting the day. Unfortunately, my family is accustomed to this ruse, and one of my very loving sisters comes along to spur me towards action. After moaning for a few moments under a wonderfully magnificent mound of blankets, I finally seize the initiative brought about by the hope of the nog and the prodding of siblings. I spring towards the shower at a turtle pace, washing the sleepies away before my body can find another place to slumber. Then, dawning my wintery garb, I rush downstairs. This year I dawn a lovely pair of pajama pants, a lovely red shirt, and a comfy white sweater. Reaching the bottom, I am forced to stop and stare… and stare… There it is… Resting probably twenty feet away rests the most glorious of sights. The monkey bread… If there were ever a substance that might rival my love of eggnog, it would be considered thus. A mixture of butter, bread, and brown sugary goodness, this tradition is something I will carry on for the rest of my days.
Of course, it is still too early to delve into this monstrosity of goodness… and so I patiently stand at the base of the stairs… Standing. Staring. Salivating. The family wishing me a pleasant Christmas morning seem to fade away into the background. After all, what else could matter in that moment? Only through sheer willpower I tear myself from the delectable grip and settle at the den table for a game of Catan. At this particular game the stars refuse to align, and my sister thus wins by monumental amounts. Pepper [parent’s dog] and Jordan [brother’s dog] wreak havoc as they bound about. Or… Pepper bounds about, excited for a canine friend. Jordan… well… he just stares at Pepper and occasionally growls in annoyance. My mom continues to do last minute wrapping. The tree sparkles, decorated with all the ornaments from years past. Another Hallmark movie plays in the background.
Eventually, with the utmost anticipation, officially begins with a hardy breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, possibly some grits, and of course… the monkey bread. We open with a prayer, each in our own way thanking God for yet another year of life. And then we eat the monkey bread… or… I eat the monkey bread. While everyone else wastes time focusing on balancing their diet, I expend no time with the healthier options. The monkey bread is all anyone could need.
This is the first time EVERYONE has been together in a while, AND we were even graced by my Grandmom’s presence! =D As everyone leaves to go back to their respective places, even now I find myself missing them.