One year on Christmas eve when I was no older than four or five, Dad went up in the bathroom while Kristen and I helped Mom with the cookies in the kitchen. Really, we were just licking the extra dough off of the spoons she used and making a mess with sprinkles and icing. Anyway, this year, Dad yelled from the upstairs bathroom, "Kristen and Kelsey...come here! I have a surprise for you!" So, as any four and six year olds would do, we darted out of the kitchen, raced up the stairs and jumped into the bathroom in front of Dad, just to see something we never expected. Dad had shaved off all of his facial hair, including the red mustache he had all of the years we had been alive. I looked in the sink and saw a pile of wirey hairs, then looked at Dad's face, no longer recognizing the once hairy man who was now only skin. Kristen and I, both shocked and scared of this man who looked nothing like our Dad, screamed and ran down the stairs faster than we had run up them. At this point we were crying and hiding behind Mom's legs, saying how scared we were of Dad. Mom had no idea what he had done until he walked downstairs with his head hung low, disappointed by our reaction. She took a quick glance at him and let out a loud "HA!" and said, "Girls, he shaved his face!" Dad sweet talked us until we came out from behind her and he picked me up. I touched his soft cheek, moved my fingers down to his chin then to his upper lip. I had never even realized that under all of that hair he had skin! I smiled with amazement at the smooth face I was looking at.
After that night, it became a tradition for Dad to shave his facial hair every Christmas eve. Every year Kristen and I would wait around downstairs until he finished shaving then act suprised when he came down, bare as a baby's bottom. We would climb in his lap and feel the soft face we had waited for all year.
Ever since we were little, on Christmas eve Kristen and I would get to pick one present under the tree to open. Mom learned the hard way that letting us pick which one we wanted to open was a bad idea. One year Kristen got a pair of socks while I got a really pretty bracelet. I bragged out of excitement about how beautiful my bracelet was while Kristen solemnly stretched out the socks that had kittens wearing Santa hats on them. After that, Mom began to pick the presents so they were of equal value. One year we got pajamas. Mine were silk and had yellow rubber duckies on them. The silk made my legs itch for some reason, but I wore the pajamas all night and Christmas morning anyway.
Another Christmas eve tradition which was started in more recent years, is that Mom, Kristen and I go to Romeos. One year after the church service we were extremely hungry and knew the only place open at 8:00 on Christmas eve would be Romeos. So we went there, ate our italian food and laughed at how empty all of Branmar Plaza was, while we three crazy girls were happily eating our fast food.
This year, though, has not been the traditional Christmas eve. We went to Romeo's at 5:45 just to learn that they closed in fifteen minutes. And so, for the first year in five, we got the food to go and ate it at home. Also, Kristen and I didn't go to the Christmas eve service with Mom. Her and James went while we went to Meghan's house for their Christmas party. Then, when we came home, Mom and James were baking cookies in the kitchen. I helped out a little, but the kitchen is barely made for two. And so, Kristen and I sat back and played Brain Age and Jetman like the dorks we are. James made cookies that were made from sour cream. They had just finished baking all of their special pistachio, walnuts and sour cream cookies when I realized that's not what we usually make for Christmas. So I demanded we make the original peanut butter cookies with the criss-cross markings in the center. I guess you could say I'm traditional. Honestly, though, I think I'm just scared of losing the feeling I got on Christmas eve when I was younger. I never want that magical feeling to go away. And now, as I'm writing this, I'm realizing that it won't. Old traditions may go, like Dad shaving his beard, and new traditions may come, like a change up in cookies, but that Christmas eve feeling that can't be felt on any other night but December 24th, it will never, ever go away. And plus, I think its good to make new traditions. It creates more memories, and to me, memories are the best Christmas gift I could ever receive.
This is just one of the millions of pictures Kristen and I took on photo booth tonight. I picked this one because we only had a few with Mom. We will always be the three crazy girls with the only car in the parking lot at the italian restaurant on Christmas eve. :)
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