Quotes For People Who Have Their Own Ways Of Feeling Merry And Bright

Okay, confession time: I can't remember a Christmas eve within the last several years where I didn't drink to my merry little heart's desire, and end up falling asleep with an empty wine glass on the nightstand and visions of blurry, quickly multiplying sugar plums dancing in my head.

The night before Christmas has always been party time in my household. But that's not to say the lead up to the big day doesn't involve a few holiday cocktails, either.

Honestly, the entire Christmas season is the perfect excuse to drink because if anyone says anything you can be like "Hey, I'm just trying to get in the spirit! Leave me alone! And also maybe fetch me another bottle, while you're up."

There's one Christmas eve in particular that really stands out in my head.

I was at my parent's annual Christmas eve party, and the kitchen island was positively filled with just about every alcohol you can imagine.

My uncles were working their way through some whisky, my mom and aunts had already broken out the peppermint schnapps, and I was perfectly content simply spiking my punch with whatever was closest to the bowl.

By the end of the night, everyone was definitely feeling jolly, and we got joking about how other families were probably getting ready to head to midnight mass.

But that was when my dad, the only sober one in the room, decided that perhaps we should actually attend this year, despite his entire family having just spent the evening filling themselves with holiday spirit.

To be honest, I don't know how it happened, but my siblings and I ended up piled into the family van, en route to midnight mass.

I also don't remember much about the ride there, beyond sticking my head out the window and trying to sober up as quickly as possible, but ultimately just ending up singing Christmas carols to anyone unlucky enough to be on the street as we drove past.

During the actual mass, my dad diligently followed the prayers and hymns, while the rest of us struggled to keep our eyes open and not fall over sideways in the pew.

Here's something we didn't know about this *particular* midnight mass: it was being broadcast live on a local television station.

The next day, as we all gathered at my grandma's place for Christmas dinner, my aunt and uncle remarked that they'd been watching last night's mass when they happened to see my family, seated quite unfortunately right in front of a camera.

They, along with everyone else who tuned in, were treated to an evening of witnessing my siblings and I giggle into our hands, fall over each other every time we had to stand up, and ultimately fall asleep in the pile of coats on the pew.

Definitely not my proudest moment, but one I don't think I'll ever forget. Happy holidays!