Christmas With the Adler-Crowell Family
This Christmas we did something out of the ordinary; we opened presents on *look both ways and whisper* Christmas Eve. Don’t tell God. My mother comes from the land of white houses and a 0% divorce rate, essentially the land of the strait-laced, so this was downright wild for us. I even had a glass of wine in the evening! The day started out like any other. I did the Lakemont ride in the morning. It was a chilly 65 degrees when I left the house at 7:21am. Those of you who live up north probably would have laughed at me wearing my arm warmers. Clacking-clacking into the house two hours later, I found my sister passed out on the couch with a mysterious illness and immediately chugged an Emergen-C. When she finally woke up, she kept laying there and only moved every twenty minutes or so to form her lips into the words: “can we open presents now?”
Usually my grandparents come over and spend the night, but this Christmas we’re going over to their house in Melbourne, FL. It’s about 85 miles away, the perfect Long Ride distance, so I’m going to start out at 8am tomorrow morning and race my family there. My version of Christmas mass. I’m looking forward to the empty roads stretching out before me toward the bright, beautiful beaches. The roads will be empty, right? What time to people go to church anyway?
Here’s a taste of our evening:
Our first present. My mother knit us stockings! They’re extra big, so I better have extra candy when I wake up in the morning.
My dad likes to fiddle around with things (fortunately for me “things” also include bicycles). This sign is going in the garage immediately. Oh how fitting it is.
This was a present from my sister. It’s a book about a girl named Heffa, Heffa Lump. She lives in a town called Spatula and her life is full of yearnings and angst and sexy vampires….at least that’s what I’ve gathered from the preface. Yes, I read all the books. I wouldn’t recommend them. I’ll let you know how this one goes.
I come from a crafty family. If you would like a Totoro for yourself or a friend, my sister will knit you one. Bringing back memories from the good ol’ days.
Michael Phelps made me ask my parents for this. It’s so my next interview in French will go better than this one.