This is what Christmas in Chicago looks like. The presents under the tree are a bit scarce because last year we decided to stop doing the whole gift thing. Actually, the rule was that you could opt to give presents, to get presents, or both. Dad announced he would only like to receive presents —”because it makes people feel good to give presents.” And I’m sure he felt pretty good drinking the bottles of wine he received last year.
The presents under this year’s tree were all joke gifts. For example, because Dad just retired, Sean gave him a paddle ball to occupy his time.
However, I have a sneaking suspicion that his retirement will look more like this:
Anyways, on Christmas Eve morning, as everyone scurried around to clean the house and get ready for the big dinner, Dad mysteriously disappeared, and Anna was sent out in the 10-degree cold to do the shoveling. Haha, classic. Good one dad.
When you live in a 100-year-old, poorly insulated house in Chicago, cuddling the cat is a main wintertime activity. We have also been known to drag the portable electric heater behind us from room to room like an oxygen tank. Thankfully, for the weekend we escaped to Three Oaks, MI where the fireplace was roaring.
Here’s the shrine to Sean in Aunt Maureen’s house. O.K., there was also one photo of the triplets, but it was hidden behind a vase.
At the end of each summer, without fail, Dad decides to buy a huge watermelon. And each year, no one wants to take the effort to chop the thing up and consume it— so it sits on the counter all Fall. By December, mom became so frustrated with having a giant melon taking up precious counter space that she wrapped it up as a Christmas present for dad. It then ends up in the compost.