Around my house there has always been a tradition that no one really likes at all. In fact we've strived to avoid it, but it just keeps happening.
I am of course talking about the tradition of someone, and sometimes many someones, getting sick just in time for Christmas.
Now truth be told, I actually have had the more unfortunate affliction of having had a cold or sinus infection that took away my sense of taste on many a Thanksgiving, which I deem far worse. But I've had my share of Christmas crud as well.
When I was one year old I had the measles which was a direct result of the MMR vaccination. Fortunately I was too young to remember and this information comes from my mother, as well as faded snapshots of tiny me with a lumpy, sad face.
A year or two later (again, well before true memories began to develop) I had apparently eaten an entire box of cherry cordials at my grandmother's house and spent Christmas night alternating between throwing up and sobbing to my mother, "N-no more Ch-chocolates ever!" I apparently forgot saying this very soon after the fact.
Of course later in life there was another incident of over indulgence, this time in the form of far too many screw drivers and stupid coffee with Irish (the half and half essentially didn't sit too well in a stomach full of citrus acid).
But it wasn't just me.
One year when my youngest brother was about 2 years old he got into the anisette cookies at my family's Christmas eve party. Although he was acting extremely silly, no one actually expected that a two year old who acted like a drunk was actually drunk. My mother, who spent the night holding my brother over the toilet, claims that he smelled like a hobo on a cheap ripple bender. What's worse is that all day Christmas he seemed fine, but later that night mom was holding him over the toilet again. She suspects that he may have squirreled some of the cookies away in his pockets for later consumption.
I can't be certain, but I think at least one of us had chicken pox on Christmas.
My father has a great story about how he came down with double pneumonia on Christmas because my mother and grandmother needed him to take them Christmas shopping. Neither had a license at the time and he was already sick, and in his own words; "I got to go to the hospital only after the shopping was done." Priorities, dad, priorities.
This past week Jason has had to take the cat into the vet for an upset stomach, and one of the dogs in for a cut on her lip and a cortisone shot. I am hoping that the this spares the two legged family from any further disasters.
So is this just my family or has this happened to you as well?