Cloudy With A Chance Of Storm

My forecast for life. Be ready to jump in puddles.

A Cross Stitch Christmas

I went camping this Labor Day weekend in Bodega Bay. It’s cold; It’s dreary; It’s the perfect place for scary stories around the fire.

So I told everyone about my family.

The Bus urged me to tell the one about Christmas 2010. It goes something like this:

Each year my mom’s side of the family has a Christmas get together with a Secret Santa gift exchange. Each gift is under $40 and we draw numbers to determine the order in which we pick. Gift givers’ names are usually secret.

Except for when your boyfriend calls out in front of everyone, “Hey, is this your gift for the exchange?”

I’m thinking, “Uh yeah, that’s why I put it under the tree.” I swear, it’s like Jews know nothing about Christmas.

So once everyone knows what awesome wrapped gift I brought, the fun begins.

Now this is where we take our first break for some back story.

I had decided to make a lovely subversive cross stitch as a humorous Christmas present. You know, the type you laugh at and re-gift the following years? It had a cute red border, was in a gold frame and in black letters it read, “Don’t make me cut you.” That’s funny, right?
I paired it with a mob-like cookbook and a bottle of Chianti.

My cousin is the second to pick and he picks my gift. Everyone is watching. Everyone knows I gave this gift.

Back story break number two.

After I started making my gift, but before Christmas, there was this little unfortunate domestic violence incident involving that cousin, his wife, the cops, and a knife. I think it got blown out of proportion. I can’t really say because the story was mostly hearsay. And when I say that, I mean I heard it from my mom, who heard it from the wife. It was like the biggest secret that everyone wasn’t supposed to know in my family.

You see where this going, right?

That DV cousin picks the gift with a funny heart cross stitch that says, “Don’t make me cut you.”
I swear I didn’t see this one coming.

So instead of the rousing round of laughter I thought it would get. It was met with deafening silence. I mean I could have heard a cat fart, it was so quiet. All eyes turn toward me. The Bus, who’s in the middle of the room nearly gives himself whiplash as he turns around to look at me while loudly saying, “What the f—?” Luckily he caught himself. Although at that point he was just verbalizing what everyone was thinking.

I look to my closest cousin; The one with the same sense of humor. She is standing to my right and I say, “funny, right?”

Blank stare.

So, hopefully we see THAT present again this year.


Single Post Navigation

One thought on “A Cross Stitch Christmas

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: