Oh Christmas Tree

    Teenage years were most difficult growing up with sister, a sister who had a great memory of my embarrassing childhood and would use this information at her leisure. To understand this in full, I have to take you further back, to a time when I was seven.

    Have you ever seen National Lampoons Christmas Vacation with Chevy Chase? If you haven't, stop reading immediately and go watch it. My father actually looks like Chevy Chase, and has the same ideas about Christmas lights, spirit, and trees.

    Each year, the family would drive out into the country to chop down that years tree from a tree farm. There was always hot chocolate and horses, and I loved being out in the fresh air. When I was seven, I was told I was allowed to bring a friend, and it seemed the Christmas season couldn't get any better.

    As we made our way out to the farm, my family and two friends,  I could feel my stomach dance with excitement. I was wearing my very stylish 80's pink and green full body snowsuit, and rocking a thick pair of wool gloves. Hidden beneath it all was the real gem; my very own pair, of mickey mouse underpants.

    Perhaps my stomach was overjoyed, because eventually the excitement and dancing became upset, and the upset became shitting my pants in the middle of the woods in a fucking snow suit.

    I can still feel the embarrassment of pulling my mother aside to tell her, and worse the cold air on my ass as she wiped up what she could in between the trees with my wool gloves. The gloves, and my white pair of mickey mouse underwear would become garbage, and I was made to sit in the car the whole way home, after literally shitting my pants. Luckily, nothing hides the smell of poo like a full snowsuit.

    In any other family, the embarrassment and trauma would most likely end there, but not in my family, we're messed up. My mom can't keep a speck of information to herself, and eventually told my father and sister. They laughed about it then, they still laugh about it now.

    I figured when all was said and done, my family and somehow I would be able to forget about it all, but that's not the family I was born into. My sister, loves this story, she loves it so much she enjoys sharing it with the people in my life.

    When I was in grade 11, I was bringing a boyfriend home for dinner for the first time, and pleaded with my sister not to breath a word of my past, especially the one about the Christmas tree, she agreed. Surprised, I thanked her, and was slightly less nervous about the meeting (but still nervous, I have a family full of lunatics)

    My sister is a woman of her word, and she indeed kept it. She did not once verbally mention the story.  My boyfriend entered the house, shook hands with the maniacs and then we all sat down in the living room to get to know each other.

    My dad didn't bust in with anything inappropriate, and my mom kept the one liners at bay. I started to feel at ease. I started to think everything was going to be OK (NOTE: anytime I think or say this in my life, within 36 hrs, things go to shit) My sister, keeping her word, decided to get up and serenade all company with a song on the family piano that still sits in my parents living room.

    It's almost like a moment out of a movie, everyone gathered round the piano for some family time. It seemed perfect, that is, until my sister hit the keys to the tune of “Oh Christmas Tree.” Please note, that it was June.

    I could feel my face glowing red as my sister belted out the words to the tune, and my parents started to laugh. My boyfriend at the time looked at me confused, and asked if there was something he was missing, to that I added, “It's funny because it's June.”

    I admit my nerves were jangled, but I managed to make it out of that situation unscathed. Time moved on as well did my boyfriend. The following Christmas, my sister's boyfriend (now my brother in law) joined us for dinner, and nervously sat to become initiated as part of the family. I felt it deep down, now was my chance for revenge.

    There were never enough seats in the house to accommodate all parties, so the piano bench would get brought out for large family meals. At this particular meal; my parents, my sister, my aunt, my cousin and a jittery future brother in law were all in attendance. No piano bench meant no chance to sit at the piano, my story, was safe.

    Dinner had started and the conversation was going overall well. There was no political or religious debates ending in tears (it happens) and now would be my time to chime in with silly things from my sisters past (which she stresses still there are none).

    As the conversation lulled (miracle if you ask me) my opportunity knocked, and I cleared my throat to tell her potato chip story (later, I promise). Before any words could escape from my mouth, my sister started to hum a familiar tune. She then turned and looked at me all the while with a giant smirk on her face as she hummed her best version of O Christmas Tree, to which all parties laughed (yes, the whole fucking family knows).

    My brother in law looked puzzled, and asked about the song. This time, it wasn't June, it was an appropriate song for the time, but my sisters face and the giggles gave it away, he knew there was story there.  I had no escape,  they all looked at me, and asserted that I tell the story (you know, it being my story and all).

    My family then persisted, asking me to tell him the story. This back and forth yes and no continued on for a good ten minutes, and I was grasping to the hope that everyone would simply drop it and move on, but they didn't. They persisted.

    As they pleaded, my sister kept chiming in with “come on LB, Oh Christmas Tree Oh Christmas Tree...”

    This scenario is a familiar one in my family, I call it, Dance Monkey Dance. If you share a good story, you will be made to share it time and again to newbies. If you do an impression, or something embarrassing in our presence, prepare to relive it. If you say no when asked, you will be badgered to the  point of eventually giving in, because my family is insanely persistent.

    After an eternity of them pleading and me saying no, the chatter got louder. All parties pleading,  my brother in law looking at me expectantly, so finally, with no strength left, I gave in to them. With no fight left, I belted out “FINE. When I was really little, I shit my pants in the woods when we were getting a Christmas Tree.”

    That did it. Everyone lost it, laughter, tears, it was pandemonium at the table. My sister, lovingly adding to it, proclaimed “you weren’t THAT young!”

    Burst of laughter hit again, and I sat there sour faced. My sister was breathless and crying, sitting next to her man who was belting out laughs I didn't know he was capable of having (he was known as painfully shy prior to this).

    “Hey LB,” my sister could barely form the words “what ever happened to that favourite pair of mickey mouse underwear you had?”

    With that my brother in law nearly fell off his seat laughing. I think that was the night he officially joined our family. My sister, dodged any attack from me and turned the tables in a surprising twist (she IS a Doctor after all). I, on the other hand, became the center of the family circus, and never lived it down.

    The following Christmas, I did the only rationale thing I could. I put on a snowsuit, bought a pair of mickey mouse underwear, stretched them over the snowsuit, and had my sister take a picture of me with a ridiculous grin on my face. I then put it in a nice frame, wrapped it up in Christmas paper, and gave it to him for Christmas. Who's idea was this? Why my sister's of-course.

    She is the genius, and for the most part, I get to benefit from this fact. However, she is a member of the family, so she is a super genius with excellent timing like our father, sometimes, this bites me in my mickey mouse wearing ass.