This experience of
parent-fails family togetherness harkened me back to my childhood. My family loaded into the cab of my dad's Silverado pick-up truck. Yep. That's the model that would burst into flames if in an accident at just the right place.
This looks pretty much just like my dad's truck minus the bubbly do-it-yourself window tinting, funky smell and random shop rag for snotty noses under the front seat. Can you imagine four people in the cab of this truck? What? Seat belts? Nope, we didn't use those in the 80s. You know what we did use? Flocked trees. Mmmhmm. Amazingness. This is what our tree doesn't look like this year, but did in my childhood.
My childhood tree also included rad bubble lights. Drats that they are fire hazards, because the special effects were mesmerizing.
I guess I'm now realizing all things I loved about my childhood Christmases may have been life-endangering. I'm guess that judging by Sunday, our children will have the same recollection of their childhoods.