|
My youthful christmases made great fodder for creative writing classes in community college. My father had a tendency to get drunk and make scenes, puke up a lot of cheap wine and piss in the sink. He fought with my mother and made drunken accusations while decorating the tree. He would make holidays extra special by drinking even more, to the point of becoming maudlin and morose while we were trying to maintain christmas cheer. He'd pass out smoking a cigarette and start fires. One year he lost his temper and threw the table full of christmas dinner onto the tree. That really ruined everything.
|