I know I’m breaking the rules right now by writing about Christmas traditions instead of sex, love and relationships, but I’m a big believer in family. My parents had sex,and fell in love, and raised my siblings and me – so there we go. Everything is love and relationships! I know everyone has their own holiday traditions, but I want to share the Way family’s secrets with you, in case your Christmas is getting a little… boring. Do you like your holidays drunk and loud? Welcome to a Way Family Christmas.
Gin and Gin
My father loves drinking gin because his father loved drinking gin, and now we Way daughters love drinking gin, too. That big, blue bottle of Bombay Sapphire just feels like home. And not only did my grandfather love a good glass (or seven) of gin; he was an avid gin player. So, during cocktail hour (which usually begins around 3pm), we all sit around the kitchen island playing gin rummy. Since it’s a two-player game, we’ll set up a tournament that continues night after night throughout the holidays. It’s a good way to get a friendly family competition going. Nothing like screaming and swearing about your losses before dinner has even been prepped.
‘Shit-Man’
When my husband joined the Way circus, he brought with him a card game called Shit-Man. Mixing Big Two, Crazy Eights and a lot of shit talk, this is the ultimate after-dinner treat. It’s a fast-paced game that involves being sent to Shit Island: dealing the cards for the players when you lose a hand and remaining there until the next loser takes your place. My husband dubbed us Ways “WD-40” because, as he says, we’re all greasy cheaters when it comes to Shit-Man. My sisters and I are pretty good at cheating: We’ll hide our bad cards under our chairs or toss them into the discard pile when my husband and father, Rick, get distracted deciding on another bottle of scotch. Old Ricky Rouge once tried to slyly throw his bad cards behind his right shoulder, but they ended up falling onto his chest, face up, and just sat there as he lied. Shit-Man is a great way to get even the most uptight members of your family to have some fun. Every game usually ends with my father referring to everyone who beats him as “You bitch.”
‘The Family Stone’
My middle sister, Samantha, is a big fan of all Christmas traditions, but her favourite is forcing us to watch all of her cheesy Christmas movies – usually more than once. Christmas with the Kranks comes a close second to The Family Stone, a holiday dramedy starring Sarah Jessica Parker, Diane Keaton, Rachel McAdams and Luke Wilson. The movie is totally twisted and ends up with the two brothers trading love interests. It’s weird, corny and heartwarming. Kind of the perfect Christmas film.
‘Dad Weed’ on Christmas Eve
In the Way house, we like to really rage it up on Christmas Eve and designate Christmas Day for eating, drinking (modestly) and being merry. Christmas Eve is when the weed usually emerges. If my baby sister doesn’t have any to spare, we’ll pull out the crunchy bud my dad keeps stored in a tin in the garage. My mother isn’t the biggest fan of this tradition, because when my father gets so stoned he can’t stop laughing about his hands, she’s the one who has to drag his howling ass to bed. Sorry, Mom, but you know it’s worth the comedy.
A Big Breakfast (and Maybe a Barf)
My father always insists on making us a huge, delicious breakfast, complete with deluxe scrambled eggs (à la Martha Stewart), chewy Jewish breads, fresh fruit and tons of traditional Polish sausage. It’s awesome, and I’m saying this as someone who doesn’t like breakfast food. I don’t know if it’s the hangover from the night before or my aversion to eggs, but Christmas morning normally includes a sneaky barf before the festivities continue.
Patience is Presents
When I was a child, I loved Christmas. Yes, I was a greedy hog who wanted to tear into her gifts like a rabid dog eating a chicken carcas, but I also loved the little things: dinner, dressing up, the adults in high spirits and slightly drunk. I used to read books all Christmas Eve long and into the morning, finally putting down my Goosebumps novel around 6am – just in time to go downstairs and see what was under the tree. I was eight years old and knew Santa Claus was really my parents, but I had three younger siblings – being in on the lie made me feel so adult. However, my family is all about greed control, so opening presents as a child was torture. We could only dump out our stockings in the morning, and had to wait until everyone had eaten a big family breakfast, showered and dressed for the day before we could touch a present under the tree. The whole idea was to keep the giving going until dinner. As kids, it was brutal (we were spoiled brats, but as an adult, I love this tradition and will definitely force it upon any children my husband and I may squeeze out someday.
Cleaning Dishes, Cleaning Dishes… Then Enjoy!
It wouldn’t be a Way family Christmas without a little Swiffer action and some deep cleaning. My parents are borderline certifiable when it comes to cleanliness. As kids, we were trained in the SS of Windex. I hated it at the time, but now I’m exactly the same relentless pillow-fluffer as my mother and have come to terms with my mental disorder. As much as food, drink and good times are a part of the Way traditions, keeping a clean and organized home is, too. When we open our gifts, there are two designated bags: one for Christmas bags and wrappings that can be recycled next year, and the other for trash. Someone is always assigned “discarded wrappings duty” (usually my mother). You don’t join our family without learning where the upstairs recycling basket is located, or the steps for a clean sink, or which scrubber is strictly reserved for the wine glasses with the thin rims. My husband has adjusted well. It’s not as fun as the gin, cards and pot, but it’s part of the deal.
Happy Holidays, everyone! Eat, drink, love, laugh and be mental.
