This will also not be like that story that turned into the hit country Christmas song "The Christmas Shoes."
So, I've made you a few promises.
Next it was off to Grandma Wade's house. Every year we have the nativity to beat all in-home nativities. In an organized fashion we are all dressed in full costume and given lines to read, songs to sing, and sticks to hit each other with when my grandma isn't looking.
Erin, Lauren and I are the "readers" every year. However, this being the first year that two of the three readers have husbands and life-plans (Hint: I was not one of them), Lauren was off in Texas with her new in-laws.
Because we were desperate we asked Erin's husband Broc to fill in and I must say, he looked quite nice in the red graduation robes traditional to the role of "Nativity Reader" (according to my grandmother.)
Other characters included a chorus of Angels...(I got booted out of this position years ago)
...Shepherds (When Roosevelt said "Speak softly and carry a big stick" he did not factor in the lung capacity of nine little boys with shepherds crooks)...
...and three wise men (AT&T commercial anyone? More bars in more places)...
After all the family festivities it was on to the friend bonfire that we had planned for last week until we got rained out.
You know you're from a small town when a bonfire on Christmas night in your sheepskin collared jacket seems like a fitting way to end your holiday.
Here is the twenty-foot tree we dragged out into the middle of the desert for kindling.
At some point in the night Erin and I got really nervous about the large, gasoline-soaked tree we were lighting up with nobody around for miles to hear us scream, but we didn't let it show.
The boys stacked crates around the tree, duct taped a few bottles of gasoline to the branches, lit a match, and....
I hope everyone else had a Christmas as adventure and family-filled as mine was.