Holiday Whirlwind

FBR and BRS in Front of Christmas Tree

It’s been a while since I’ve endeavored here on Frail Deeds as a special Christmas gift to spare you from my fractured prose. It was not through any altruistic design but more because I’ve been engulfed in a literal maelstrom of activity since I last appeared here. The striking majority of that time was extremely well spent as both of my “kids”, their spouses, and of course the dynamic BRS/FBR duo descended on the house for the holiday. Both my Favorite Panamanian and I were bordering on exhaustion before the holiday started as we staggered to the finish line of the renovation project,

Hallway to New Bedroom

Deckzilla Dude promised we’d be in the new master bedroom by Christmas but it was a close run thing and would never have happened without a lot of direct help from the two of us. The plumber reappeared on Saturday and connected all the water lines. The only thing remaining for him is the final inspection. The Dude also cleared out of the room after completing a myriad of small tasks such as installing the variety of polished brass paraphernalia my wife purchased for that room. The only major things left to do are the shower glass enclosure and bathroom mirror which should be done by a subcontractor in a couple weeks.

Christmas Eve Dinner

This meant we could move everything over from our former master bedroom. I spent Saturday morning returning some of the excess materials we’d bought for the project and then buying a double mattress and box spring for the new “Granddaughter Room”. I once again, to my pain, ignored some very good advice from my wife about borrowing the neighbor’s truck to haul that purchase home. Everything was going swimmingly until I realized I’d left the spool of rope I bought specifically to lash down the box spring on top of the Highlander. I jammed the mattress inside and then tried to make do with the bungie cords I did have. I was about ten miles from home and had to use back roads since I didn’t want to chance the high velocity winds.

Abuela and Sleep Challenged BRS on Christmas Morn

Everything was going smoothly until I drove past a huge cemetery where a huge gust of wind defeated the bungie cords and the box spring went twirling into the air to land in front of the car behind me. He was able to brake in time to prevent disabling damage to the box spring. I was of course more than extremely embarrassed as I was now one of “those guys” you always laugh at passing by. I quickly recovered it and lashed it more securely before limping home to the expected and thoroughly earned “I told you so” from my Favorite Panamanian.

FBR and her Newest Unicorn

Demonstrating Proper Unicorn Etiquette to BRS

My humiliation was short lived as the FBR arrived shortly thereafter and was very enthusiastic about her new “big girl” bed. A granddaughter’s joy can assuage some of life’s most damaged feelings. She even volunteered to help with the ongoing move into the new master bedroom. Her help though consisted mostly of testing the newly erected bed by jumping on it despite a harsh lecture from the adults about monkeys falling off beds after forbidden jumping.

Soxfather and Great Aunt Arrive!

I was able to get in some late night movie viewing with my daughter which I’ve missed ever since she and her brother abandoned us. She even activated our Amazon Prime channel which we hadn’t been able to use before. We retrieved Wingman from the Providence train station on Sunday afternoon to complete the deployment of hate New Jersey contingent. The holiday was picking up steam rapidly.

One Very Happy Grandpa

I had to get up at 4am on Monday, Christmas Eve, in order to greet my first shift as they arrived for work. It’s a tradition where I provide coffee and doughnuts and wish them a merry Christmas. It’s a well-received gesture but painfully early after all the labor and fun I’d had over the preceding days. In a completely self-serving move I released everybody early from work and then went home to take a nap at the same time as the FBR. My daughter and I were back in the Man Cave after that nap enjoying the philosophical musings of Quinten Tarrantino when my Favorite Son announced his arrival.

These Two!

Soxfather Working his Magic on the Next Generation

He and the BRS had completed their requirements on the ABFA side of the family and it now really felt like Christmas with the whole brood back under the roof. My wife’s herculean efforts over the preceding week had resulted in a bad cold which she rangered her way through to create a fabulous Christmas Eve dinner. I looked around at the gathered group at table and felt complete joy. We sent my wife to bed early to combat her cold while the rest of us cleaned up and then, post granddaughter sleep time, assembled in the Man Cave for some last minute gift wrapping and catching up.

Son and I with Our Turkey

Gravy Time

The FBR before going up had scrupulously left Santa his required snack of cookies. She directed Wingman to get a couple of the sugar cookies she had helped my daughter make. In a moment of true kismet the FBR recognized a special cookie she had added an extra amount of sugar on top of (before my daughter could prevent it) especially for Santa. Wingman had just picked two random cookies and just happened to pick out the one meant for Santa which the FBR recognized. Santa does work in mysterious ways. In a time I treasured my son and I prepared the Christmas turkey so it would be ready for cooking first thing in the morning. I felt a real sense of passing the torch as prior years lessons had taken hold and he fully embraced the family tradition of the guys cooking the Christmas bird.

FBR and Wingman

I was up early on Christmas and enjoyed some solitary time turning all the Christmas lights on, preparing for the expected onslaught, and turning the oven on for the turkey. An exhausted ABFA came down shortly thereafter with the BRS. We’d heard throughout the night as the BRS woke repeatedly and announced her joy at the impending arrival of Christmas Day. It was a lot worse than I thought as she kept both my son and the ABFA up for most of the night in what my son said was the worst night she’d had since her first month of existence.

FBR Amazed at Santa's Bounty

So the BRS and I hung out while the ABFA snuck back upstirs for some needed rest. We were not alone for long as the 730am bewitching hour arrived when the FBR’s alarm clock light goes on and she is released from quiet time. It is one of life’s small justices to see your own children having to deal with early morning wakeups of their children after being subjected to it by them all those years ago. The BRS and I had put some coffee on to brew to assist in the wakeup effort.

Beloved Post Present Opening Chaos

The FBR was thrilled that Santa seemed to have enjoyed her offerings although there was a small piece with a large bite make left. She formally requested permission to share in this Santa laced cookie. With an FBR assist all of the adults finally staggered downstairs for coffee and the gift opening bonanza. This was the first year the FBR understood about unwrapping gifts and demonstrated a lightening quick grasp of the concept. She was a veritable tornado of shredded gift wrappings as I was challenged to keep her supplied with gifts as I doled them out from under the tree.

ABFA and Son with BRS

BRS Beating the Drum

She only paused when she opened the gift from her other grandmother, Wingman’s mom, where she had a full complement of the Paw Patrol to play with. The BRS was entirely more sanguine about her own Christmas gifts, seemingly more interested in preventing her parents from opening their gifts. We were just winding down when the second wave showed up as Great Aunt and Soxfather along with Namesake Nephew showed up to continue the gift opening. Great Aunt was horrified to learn we hadn’t already started in with the tradition Christmas morning mimosas.

Where to Start?

The “kids” had stocked the required ingredients and this shortcoming was shortly rectified as two complete bottles of champagne and accompanying OJ were sent to meet their maker. We then rolled into the somewhat delayed traditional breakfast of fried dough and more mimosas as the FBR bemoaned the lack of additional gifts to unwrap. She quickly adapted and soon had most if not all of her new toys opened and engaged throughout the first floor. It was the exact kind of controlled chaos I fondly remembered from my own youth as well as those years with my young kids at my mother’s house when we returned from wherever the Army had us at the time.

Daughter and Son

The ABFA’s parents and Riggins arrived around noontime to complete the family part of the gathering. Riggins arrival filled a large hole because it’s not really Christmas without a large dog patrolling the attendant debris. My son and I adjourned to the kitchen in the early afternoon to complete the preparation of Christmas dinner. We did our level best at soiling every spot of the kitchen but the dinner turned out extremely well, if exhausting. We had to add an adjunct table to the already expanded dining room table to accommodate everyone. As I looked from the head of the table I realized this was the best Christmas gift of all and always is. From the youngest, the BRS gurgling happily at the other end of the table, to Great Aunt who’d been a part of all of my Christmases, my brother in all but blood – Soxfather, to my Favorite Panamanian and all she’d brought to my life, and most importantly the two superb adults our children have evolved into and their fantastic families – this was what made Christmas so special for me. Having these people most important to my existence all gathered while not a miracle certainly qualified as a boon beyond any adequate description or proper appreciation.

The day was completed with the late arrival of Keene Friend and another frenzied gift opening session with the granddaughters. For the reasons I’ve listed above I was a lot more exhausted than I wished but nothing could dim the joy of the day. I’m already looking forward to next year where there’ll be no construction project, I’ll be retired, and the BRS won’t feel compelled to remain awake all night awaiting Santa.  The party is not over yet. This afternoon we all head north for the traditional day after Christmas party at Keene Friend’s house.

The End

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RECURRING CHARACTERS

BRS - Blog Reader the Sequel - second granddaughter; FBR - First Blog Reader - first granddaughter, ABFA – Amazing Best Family Athlete = my daughter in law, formerly known both as MEF – Most Excellent Fiancé & MEG – Most Excellent Girlfriend; Wingman – my son in law; Keene Friends 1 & 2 – friends since high school from my home town of Keene, NH; Soxfather - my brother in law; Great Aunt = my elder sister; Cantankerous Friend – friend since grade school who likes to argue about everything, poses as radical leftist to attract women; Pittsburgh College Roommate – high school friend, also a “Minor Celebrity” in Pittsburgh; Deckzilla – our backyard deck which grew to monstrous dimensions once my wife got involved in planning; Maine and Virginia Musqueteras – two close friends of my wife – her US sisters, my wife is the 3^rdmusquetera (musketeer); Buddy – AKA the Wonder Pooch – family dog, a black lab – hates squirrels, died in 2017; Riggins - also known as the Grandpuppy, son's dog, surrogate grandchild while awaiting arrival of the BRS; PanaGals – female relatives/friends of my wife from Panama; Panamanian/Latin Mafia – inevitable group of Latino friends my wife accumulates wherever we have lived & their spouses; Neighborhood Mafioso - wife's close friend and Panamanian mafia member, Favorite Panamanian - the wife (of course); First Friday – celebrations to mark the First Friday of the Week; Excellent Boss – my former direct boss at work; Deckzilla Dude – senior citizen carpenter/contractor; Voices of Inappropriate Worth - members of public who come to every Worcester public meeting to complain, all are on public assistance along with demeanor issues