Christmas 2012: Part Two
Chapter: Season Three
Smoooooooooooth, Sam.
Mel’s little sister appeared in the first Christmas arc and she makes her return today (yep, she’s adopted but more on that later).
Where’s Brett and Papa Kringle? You’ll see on Friday.
COMMENTERS: Awkward Christmas. Lay them on me.
Good going Sam.
And on a constructive note: There doesn’t need to be an apostrophe in the second panel where Sam says, “Santa’s.”
I’m lea’ving’ it’s there’s. TO TAUNT YOU FOR ETERNALLY!
(No really, I’ll fix it. Thanks)
Oh god! The grammar Nazis would eternally rage!
Oh and as for awkward Christmas stories. I can’t think of many. Plenty of the joyless family holiday wars that make the holidays awkward, but nothing hilarious is popping to mind. But there is a first year for everything, so maybe this Christmas will be full of adventure!
Getting my share of my grandma’s life insurance as her final Christmas gift.
We have boisterous family discussions and many years ago the conversation around the dinner table at Christmas turned; with my Grandmother saying “…Hitlers greatest mistake was not killing all the Jews”. The rest of us were floored and stared with mouths gaping open. Nice old lady, with a somewhat hidden intolerant racist side.
My brother said really loudly across the silence, “pass the potatoes!”, and we pretended that she hadn’t said anything.
Geez Grandma, he tried as hard as he could, give the guy a break already!
Also, I heard that you should never get involved in a land war in Asia. That’s probably a mistake, right there.
Awkward Christmas happenings? How about working the Mall Santa photo…thing (assistant manager, go me) and having, at the last minute, Santa call in sick. Either we didn’t work that day, or someone had to fill-in as Santa. I was the only male employed there (other than Santa). Skinny, dark haired, 19 year old me…as Santa. (Holy crap, that was 9 years ago)
Soooooo . . . can’t Sam just say, “I know Santa personally, he sits in on our games”? Kinda makes the whole fake-Santa thing weird when Santa is one of your best friends.
Patience, Kimosabe. Brett’s friends are trying to respect the secret identity side to the Santa situation. If little kids like Sandy find out, they’d never leave him alone. Trust me.
The dialogue in the first panel is perfect.
My Grandpa would set up a video camera in the corner of the room to tape the holiday celebrations. One year, my uncle and aunt were 2 hours late for Christmas Lunch and we gave up on them and started to eat. My mom and other aunt were bad-mouthing them while they ate, talking about how they were *always* late. Right under the video camera they both forgot was running.
Later on my tardy aunt and uncle watched the tape to see what they’d missed.
They were never, ever late for Christmas again…
Awkward Christmas: OK, first some background. My mother grew up in WWII Germany. She was born in 1936, and lived in a small village just outside of Dresden (so she saw the firebombing from a few kilometers away). She lived through the Russian invasion and occupation and escaped East Germany in the 1950s. She’s not a bigot at all, but has NO filters. NONE. Seriously. If you’re easily offended, stop reading.
So, in the 80s, my father was a Corporate General Manager for Arby’s here in Central Indiana. They were invited to a holiday party through by one of their suppliers/distributors (the Newman family). My mother tells jokes in social gatherings (much to our chagrin) and doesn’t get why some things aren’t appropriate. The joke she picked that night? “What’s the difference between a Jew and a pizza?” (she speaks in a VERY thick German accent)
If you need an explanation why the punchline was met with abject silence, just do some math. Newman. German born in 1936.
Got it? Dad’s lucky they just never got invited back. They could’ve pulled the account. My mother just doesn’t understand how people can find words and such offensive. She used to banter with one of my brother-in-law’s relatives who was a Marine at Guadalcanal. She’s greet him with “Hi Jarhead!” and he’d reply “Hi Kraut!”
The rest of us just shake our heads and drink.
Worst Christmas: Breaking up with my girlfriend on the 6 hour drive up to my parent’s house. Spending 3 days with someone you just learned cheated on you is not my idea of fun, and having everyone gush about how wonderful a couple you are just makes it worse, and horribly awkward.
UUUUUUUUUUUUGH. Man, I am so sorry. I too broke up with someone during a Christmas vacation and it is the picture of awkward.
The best moment ever, and my sister and I still laugh about this. One year, one of my cousins got into one of my Aunts bags to get her something, and came out with her dildo. He asked rather loudly, “This tickles Aunt, what’s it for?”
Yeah, but what if that one was the real Santa?
Guessing is half the fun!
The real Santa sits retired and alone in Diamond Bar California.
Shut your whore mouth, James. Santa is FINE. FINE!
All of my holiday horror stories generally revolve around getting sick and/or drinking too much, either by me or other family members. I’m sure we’re going to have a few this year, especially since it’s the first Christmas since my favorite uncle passed away suddenly this past winter. I think we’re all going to need an extra couple shots this Christmas…
Monopoly game with your Mormon “Only 300k get to heaven” aunt.. at the wonderful age of 8 years. That game took 13 hours start to finish, a good 6 spent listening to religious fanaticism.
Needless to say someone wants to talk religion… I’m out more oft than not. But then there’s those who want to tell me I’m heading for hell. A simple smile and an ode to AC/DC just wouldn’t be enough for me to enjoy the looks on THOSE faces.
Love my family, I do… but some of us are quackos.
Akward…How about the fact that I live less than 30 miles from my brother and his family, but can’t even speak to one of them for christmas, can’t wish my nephews and newborn niece Merry Christmas and can’t get any of them gifts because my brother says I did something stupid and won’t tell me what I did?
I realize this is ridiculously out-of-date, as I’m currently reading your comic for the first time, but . . .
Imagine being in elementary school and asking your father if Santa Claus is really real. My dad’s reply was sweet and well-meaning, about how Santa represents the spirit of Christmas, but also really awkward and a little adult for the kid I was at the time.
Now imagine that this conversation took place on Christmas Day at my grandparents’ house, thus completely derailing the family celebration while the youngest member had a giant meltdown. I spent most of the rest of the day crying that he and everyone else there had lied to me my entire life, and why would they do such a thing?
So . . . yeah! At least in your world the trauma of realizing that she’s not talking to the REAL Santa each and every time is the worst Santa-related heartbreak this kid (hopefully) has in store. (Then again, if Brett’s in jerk mode if she *does* ever meet him. . . . :P)
I will (most probably) never ever understand the fascination with Santa in the USA. Though I only know about it from cheesy Hollywood movies and comics, so maybe it isn’t this bad.