Christmas always gets me. Christmas Eve, yesterday, I woke up to a phone call from my dad telling me that I would have to pay for the iPhone I was receiving for Christmas. I had no idea that I was getting such a nice present, or that I was getting anything for that matter. But all of a sudden, I was excited for Christmas. (It was also a really good deal for that iPhone, and it was money from an account I'm not normally allowed to access, not my normal account.)
See, my biggest love language tends to be gifts. I love giving and receiving them. Another love language of mine is quality time, but I feel that a gift conveys the most. Someone took the time to think of me, to find something I'd like (or at least to try).
That being said, Christmas Eve (which was our family's Christmas this year) was full of fun at my mom's house. My youngest sister and her boyfriend broke up, so he wasn't there crapping it up. She sat in dog poop and it was hilarious. Also, a dog vomited, and I still can't get the image out of my mind, so I've had a difficult time avoiding gagging when I think about it.
Christmas Day (today) had our younger cousins and grandparents over to my dad's house. Our grandparents gave us Bible research to do by Thursday, which is typical of them, and the youngest cousin (6 1/2 years old) made it her mission to learn to play my dad's old trumpet throughout the night.
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