Home for the Holidays

It's Thanksgiving week, one of my favorite weeks of the year. This year, I'll be going with the Cute Neighbor to his parents' house for Turkey Day. This is not so much a "we're so serious we want to spend every holiday" move so much as it's a "my parents live out of driving distance, but his don't and isn't that convenient" kind of move. I realize just how true this is when I think of the cute neighbor going to my parent's house for Christmas. Which he is absolutely not doing; that hasn't been discussed. In fact, I don't want the cute neighbor to come home with me for Christmas. Why? There are just some things that happen in the Bickerstaff household at the holidays that I'm not ready to share with him- or anyone- just yet. A few shining examples:

1. The pre-church, family Christmas photo. Every year- and I do mean every year- before we head off to church on Christmas Eve, my mother forces us all into a family photo. She poses us in front of the Christmas tree (the main Christmas tree, not to be confused with the numerous, smaller, themed Christmas trees throughout the house) for a family photo. She sets the camera up on a pile of books on the coffee table, hits the timer, then makes a mad dash for the tree while we sit uncomfortably staring at the blinking camera. Everyone except Grayer, who thinks she's auditioning for America's Next Top Model and is too busy posing and making love to the camera to be uncomfortable. I don't know why, but the thought of the cute neighbor having to take this photo makes me cringe.
2. Church on Christmas Eve. Every year, we must leave for Christmas Eve service an hour before the service actually begins. Why? Because my parents sing in the choir. This actually isn't so bad, as Grayer and I sit facing them and can make faces at them. Especially the year my mom was featured on the finger cymbals. That will never, ever stop being funny, but it is terribly dorky. It has, however, spawned my now-favorite Christmas tradition: the one in which Grayer and I play "Holiday Hangman" in the church bulletin to entertain ourselves before the service starts. And no, we don't use words like "mistletoe" or "Rudolph", we use phrases like "The glow of electric sex in the window" (A Christmas Story, obviously) and "The best way to spread Christmas cheer is to sing it loud for all to hear." But don't forget about after church! That's when we go to the house of my junior prom date to get our fill of awkwardness in, and where last year I had my very own "I carried a watermelon" moment when I stood in the entryway and announced that "I have a meat and cheese tray." Then, of course, we must drive around and look at Christmas lights.
3. Holiday skyping. These days, we don't just call extended family on Christmas day, we skype them. That means we turn the camera on so they can see us and all our shiny new presents. Somehow, even after two years of using this technology, my mother cannot get over the fact that this technology actually exists, therefore, she never stops "smiling at the camera." It's exactly how I picture Bridget's mom would act if presented with a web cam.
4. Holiday decorations on steroids. Like I alluded to in number 1, my mom goes completely bonkers when it comes to the holiday decorations. I've lost count of the number of Christmas trees she puts up. There's of course the main tree, but then we have an angel tree, a snowman tree, and a music tree. A new one seems to pop up every year. Then there's the lights. You could land planes in front of my parents' house. There are millions of them. (All white, of course!) The cute neighbor claims his mom is just as bad, but somehow, I just don't think that's possible.

Yes, these are all reasons not to bring the cute neighbor home with me for Christmas. But they are the same reasons I'll be home for Christmas. I don't want to miss out on all the fun.