This Week in Awkward: Christmas Edition

‘Tis the season to be awkward, fa-la-la-la, la-la-awk… Now sit back and let us tell the tale of awkward Christmas stories.

[divider] [/divider]

Katie & Hope: Christmas Dog Graffiti

Like any Christmas procrastinators we put up our outdoor lights the week before the big day—so two days ago. And as with any ordeal that Hope and I are trying to master, we squabbled over it, the dog messed it up, it had to be redone, and before the task was complete we got distracted by a dog and shiny things. So after finally getting at least the fence lights up, we thought, “Here’s a strand of flashing, epilepsy-inducing colored lights—let’s put them on the fence!” But before we could turn the front of our house into what would look like a “Topless Bar This Way,” our black labrador Seamus decided to come out and help. Well wouldn’t he look good draped in lights? The obvious solution was clear and we then spent 30 minutes in below freezing weather, artfully decorating the dog with flashing Christmas lights. Miraculously he sat there and took it, but apparently Hope and I were giving off Christmas vandal signals. Out of nowhere, Hope and I were suddenly as blinded as the dog, but instead of seeing fairy lights blinking in our peripheral vision, a huge white spotlight was shone on us. A cop was cruising through the neighborhood and thought we were guilty of graffiting a dog with Christmas lights, and kept the spotlight on us until we removed all the lights. At which point Seamus let out a booming bark and told the fuzz to get a move on. Naturally we filmed it.

Michelle: I’d Tell You About My Christmas—But Then I’d Have to Kill You

I come from a huge extended family that’s spread out all over the globe. I haven’t seen some of my relatives in years, so you can imagine how overwhelming it can be when we all get together. On top of that, my uncle works for the State Department and occasionally brings colleagues who don’t have any family nearby along for the Delgado Family Christmas Extravaganza. My Christmas memories almost always involve a second cousin recently returned from Colombia or a diplomat from Slovakia or an elderly, non-English-speaking relative who remembered me as a baby—people whose names I never fail to forget and whose connections to me I never fully understand. I love that my family is so inclusive and welcoming—it’s set a great example that I hope to live up to. I just wish I knew all the faces around the table at Christmas dinner!

Kirstie: Not Getting Lucky on Christmas

I’m 22 years old, and I have never spent Christmas with anyone but my parents. After my brothers moved out I got used to Christmas just being the three of us. Occasionally we’d travel to New Mexico to spend it with family, but for the most part every year is the same—Christmas at Mom and Dad’s house in Houston. This year I expected nothing different. A few months ago my Mom calls me up and says, “Hey, guess what?! We’re going to Las Vegas for Christmas this year!” I start to get overly excited, talking about how much fun we’re going to have and what a great idea that is. After a few minutes of me going on and on about my excitement there is an awkwardly long pause from my Mom followed by, “… No. Um. YOU are not going to Vegas… WE are going to Vegas.” Ohhhh. She then proceeded to tell me how they figured I was old enough to make my own plans. Then I had to make the awkward, “Can I come to your house for Christmas?” call to my brother. It all worked out in the end, but made a for a funny story to tell.

Lindsey: No Christmas Desserts for Me

Every year the holidays are divided between my mom and one of my aunts. This particular Christmas was spent at my aunt’s house (not that it matters really). My grandfather has a tendency to say whatever comes in his head and when me and my family got there we did the obligatory walk around the room hugging every family member we haven’t seen since Thanksgiving. I finally come around to my grandfather who gives me a great big bear hug, steps aways, then comes back for another hug, playfully (I’m sure he thought so) grabs my belly and says, “Getting kinda big there aren’t you?” Needless to say I mostly avoid my grandfather now, at holiday gatherings and the rest of the time. Cause who wants to hear that right before they are about to engage in the rich age-old tradition of stuffing your face until you literally can’t move?

[divider]  [/divider]

Tweet us your favorite awkward Christmas stories @litdarling