Has your family ever gotten into an epic argument over the holidays, complete with shouting and tears?
Crazy to think that our family actually laughs about this one now. So, for your entertainment, I offer you “Sarah’s family blowout… triggered by a one and half calorie breathmint.” Hint: I caused it!
Let’s set the scene, shall we? The holidays for us have always had a slight element of pressure. It’s the Most Wonderful Time Of The Year after all! And 2020 aside, even a regular year could still have its own stress and anxiety.
As a child, it’s almost too much anticipation. The glow of the tree, the wrapped gifts with YOUR NAME ON THEM, and the delicious aroma of food. Everything is about waiting. The turkey smells so good … NOT YET! That gift is practically BEGGING to be opened! NOT YET.
I must have been about eight years old, because I didn’t have a little brother yet, and no cousins … so that year at Gran and Papas house, I was the only kid. All the adults were doing boring things in the kitchen and just … talking. Meanwhile, left to my own devices (this is Pre-iPad, people) I was bored out of my ever loving mind. Staring at presents. Waiting.
I’d finally gotten some relative to agree that I could dig into my stocking to tide myself over, which is when my stepdad found me eating Orange TicTacs and questioned me. He had specifically told me no candy before dinner. I began making excuses (technically it’s not candy, it’s a mint) which didn’t go over so well. This tension began to be observed by other family members, to which my Gran told me this was no way to behave properly in front of my great-grandmother, who was incredibly proper.
My mother and stepdad began arguing, because each felt undermined by the other and they were hoping to have a solid “parenting stance” on the way gifts were to be opened. So as not to make a scene on Christmas day, I was escorted to the back guest bedroom. I still remember the layout of the room, the perfectly made lace bedspread, and the oil painting of my grandmother on the wall … just looking at me. Around this time I began crying, which elicited the sympathy of my Aunt Cathy, who snuck to the back bedroom to console me.
The conversations escalated and sides were taken. I remember the front door shutting as someone needed to “take a walk!” Over a mint!
Do you see how tiny this mint is?!
We drove home in silence that day. I remember feeling like I’d ruined Christmas.
That was decades ago. It’s so odd to me now if I bring up the story with my family, everyone busts up laughing. How does time do that? My stepdad says stuff like “How in the world did I get mad about THAT” and my mom says stuff like “Oh, I had forgotten about that” and I say things like “It’s not candy, it’s a MINT!”
Not sure how many years passed before we were able to make light of it, but I know at one point someone took a risk and put some orange TicTacs in a stocking, and the laughter erupted. It’s now a tradition. In fact, I was just at Target the other day, putting three boxes of Orange TicTacs in my cart, one for each of my kids, who love hearing the story. Our whole family often sits back and reflects, not on magical moments, but on the huge quirks and mistakes. “Kevin, remember when we were transporting those candied yams and I was fighting with my brother in the backseat and spilled them all over and you spent the better half of Thanksgiving dinner with a ShopVac in the driveway?” More laughter.
The greatest gift of my family is not that we don’t shout, make mistakes, or burn the food. The greatest gift we offer each other is another chance.
