On fighting with the family…


And so begins the holiday season!

The leaves are changing and the weather is definitely getting colder and gloomier. For the east coast, this happens much later than I’m used to. In Colorado, if it hasn’t snowed by the time we’re donning our Halloween costumes, we start screaming about heat waves! And then Mother Nature will smack us upside the head with a 5° day. Aaaaaaanyway…
This time every year, I start thinking about all the traditions my family has that have been around for as long as I can remember. There’s the “creepy Santa” and the Christmas Adam party, we always make way too many cookies (which allows us to gorge well in to January), listening to The Beach Boys while decorating the tree seems perfectly normal, my dad’s turkey gravy which is undoubtedly the most delicious gravy you’ll ever eat, watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade followed by the dog show followed by football. There are a million amazing things we do every year.
But probably my favorite thing we do every year, without question, involves “the fight.”
That’s right. I said it. I love the family fight that ensues every single year on Christmas Eve.
And it’s all about soup.
My dad makes this amazing spicy creamy potato soup with bell peppers (and, more recently, andouille sausage, which I don’t enjoy, but can pick around). We have always – ALWAYS – had this soup for dinner on Christmas Eve. We have soup, crackers, and cheese, then we watch A Muppet Christmas Carol (skipping that awful song that young Scrooge’s girlfriend sings), and make our way to our church’s Christmas Eve service. It’s been this way since at least 1996. My mom and I have facts and sources to back up this claim. Yet every year, my dad swears that he makes potato soup for lunch on Christmas Day.
Dad: Okay, so what time do we want lunch on Christmas? Soup sound good?
Me: Seriously, Dad. Every year? It’s always for dinner on Christmas Eve.
Mom: Why in the WORLD would we eat lunch on Christmas Day? We have a huge breakfast, snack all day, then have a hug dinner followed by the richest dessert. Soup is on Christmas Eve!
The fight has become something of a joke for our family now (although I suspect my dad will one day enforce the Christmas Day soup). But I don’t imagine we’ll ever go an entire holiday season without having that fight.

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