Although it's the season to be jolly and all that, I thought I would share with you a story of my worst Christmas. I'd love to hear some of your anecdotes on the same subject.
My parents divorced when I was about five years old and both remarried so my brother and I had two sets of parents. Unfortunately none of them wanted to be called 'Mum or Dad'. We had to call them by their first names which was very unusual in those days.
One Christmas when my brother and I were in our early teens they decided we would all spend Christmas together – yes that's right – both sets of parents and my brother and I under the same roof. My mother and stepfather (with whom we lived) provided a turkey, cake and mince pies whilst my step mother and father were supposed to provide the alcohol and everything else.
You can imagine the atmosphere – my brother retreated to his bedroom and left me to be piggy in the middle and keep the peace. Christmas lunch we got one slice of turkey and no gravy - my step mother and father didn't like gravy so we had to do without as well. We never saw the pudding, mince pies or cake.
After that the turkey and trimmings vanished and I remember we had to find our way to Chelsea (we were in Kilburn) where my step uncle and his wife were staying with his in-laws in order to get something to eat.
Can anyone top that?
How horrid! I remember when I was a student nurse, my night duty started Christmas eve. I travelled from Harwich to Epping, leaving behind Christmas smells. I arrived in my tiny room in a big old house, to silence. I placed a few gifts under my tiny tree ready to open in the morning. Christmas day arrived and I went to bed after eating in the canteen ... breakfast foods. I woke to the Queen's speech and a cuppa. Opened gifts alone as friends had gone home for the day, or were on duty. They arrived ready to party, I went to canteen for cold leftovers. Rang home, fiance and all were too merry to chat for long. Took the slow walk back on duty to sit the night with another student. We ate mince pies and played cards. 1977 is a year I will never forget. Repeat for Boxing day. :)
ReplyDeleteHow sad! I remember being dumped by current boyfriend of the day, just before Christmas then being invited to male friend's family Christmas as he felt sorry for me. Unfortunatley he forgot to tell his family that he'd done so and his sister was really rude to me when I turned up, and i just wanted to go home. Had a terse conversation in my alloted room with my friend saying what a cow his sister was, only to be informed in a clear, loud voice that whole gathering downstairs could hear the conversation as the baby monitor was still on in my room!
DeleteGlynis - sounds grim - but you were working over the holiday so at least had the comfort of knowing you were 'helping others'.
DeleteThanks for sharing.
Jaxx - stuff of sit-coms! How awful -but funny in the telling.
ReplyDeleteMy son was dumped many years ago on Christmas Eve - he came for lunch, got plastered and walked back to his flat -three miles away - in the snow. I worried abut his safety -before the days of mobiles -and it ruined my day as well.
thanks for sharing. Keep them coming.
Fenella,
ReplyDeleteA terrible experience for one so young! I'd share mine (it is by no means worse) but everything can be googled these days.
What is the half-life of a blog post?
Happy Holidays :-)
Poor you, Fenella - nearly had me in tears! And the other ones on this page too. :(
ReplyDeleteChristmas seems to be my time of year for things - good or bad - to happen. I met my other half at a Christmas dance on 23 December 1966. (Yes, I suppose that was one of the good ones!). Two of our three daughters were born in Christmas week (yes, they were definitely good ones). We moved house once on 20 December - with 3 toddlers (not so good). More recently, we had one Christmas when the boiler packed up - it was freezing cold and prompted a family row between two frustrated members of the party; another when one of the daughters was rushed into hospital on Christmas morning - we had to drive over and bring their 3 month old baby back home with us. He was being breastfed and we had no idea how to put the car seat into the car. That was probably the worst Christmas Day of all. The funniest but nastiest? Definitely when we got down the bag of Christmas presents from the top of the wardrobe on Christmas Eve and discovered two pork chops in one of the bags - and realised why there had been a bad smell in our bedroom for several weeks ...!
Olivia
ReplyDeleteI love the pork chops story! Almost as bad as the dog poo on the radiator. DH put it down as he took dog lead off and forgot about it. Having no sense of smell he didn't realize
Dianna
Not sure what a half-life of a blog post is - and why your story could be googled. Are you thinking about the amount of people who would hear your story?