eggs

I was talking to some friends this past weekend about the order of events in their home on Christmas morning. I’m not going to name them here (they know I love them), but here’s what they do: first, they open their stockings. But before they open any presents, they proceed in an orderly fashion to a formal, hot breakfast of bacon and eggs, the whole nine yards. After dining, they take turns opening one present at a time. Gift opening comes to a complete halt when someone unwraps an item of clothing and (wait for it) the recipient must try on and model said apparel for the rest of the family, receive compliments and admiration, and offer up effusive thanks. Then the civil, one-at-a-time gift opening can resume. Well, I was kind of snickering (they weren’t) because – first of all, this must take hours. And, not to make it sound like I can’t manage to maintain some small modicum of decorum in my house, their order of events is in sharp contrast to what happens at our home on Christmas morning.