 | Hey guys! So remember when I first started this blog, I told you that I might have some guest posts from some of the other characters that Toz lady writes about? Well - today's the day! See there's this Family Blog Hop thing going on over at Terri Giuliano Long's blog - she's this author lady that my author,Toz, really likes a lot. I don't know - she writes grown up stuff, so I'm not allowed to read it, but that Toz lady says it's pretty good. I'm getting off subject aren't I? Okay, |
well, like I was saying, there's this Family Blog Hop going around, and they asked me if I'd like to write about the holidays with my family. Well, I thought that since Nate Rocks talks all about Christmas in his book, that it would be fun to have him come here and talk about it instead. So ... here he is - Nate Rocks himself!
Hi Millie - thanks for having me on your blog!
So - uh - I've never been on a blog before. I'm not really sure what I'm doing here, but Millie says she wants me to talk about Christmas. Well - it's only my favorite holiday! It's my Dad's favorite holiday, too. He's really big into traditions. For one thing, he insists that we don’t open our presents until after breakfast. My friends all think it's torturous that we have to wait, but I don’’t mind at all. Christmas morning is the one-day a year, I can be certain I will have an amazing breakfast. I know this, because Christmas morning is the one morning a year –– the only morning of the year –– when Mom stays out of the kitchen. (Trust me - this is a good thing!) Even on Mother’’s Day, Mom insists on making breakfast. But on Christmas morning, Dad takes over, making his infamous chocolate chip and apple pancakes.
Every year, Abby (that's my older sister) and I have to wait in the living room after we wake up, while Dad cooks breakfast. He doesn’t let anyone in the kitchen while he is cooking. Even Mom has to wait in the living room, although it might do her some good to watch what Dad is doing. Abby and I sit on the floor, getting as close to the presents as we can, without touching them, trying to figure out what’’s in each box. Mom sits on the couch reading her newspaper, pretending not to notice, but really, she is making sure we do not spoil any surprises.
After Dad calls us into breakfast, Mom walks over to the tree to make sure nothing has been disturbed. I savor every bite of Dad's pancakes. It may be my last good meal in quite some time! Mom will be making her traditional Christmas ham for dinner. It’s not that I don’t like ham, it’s just that Mom has this thing about making sure the ham is cooked enough. By the time Mom gets through with it, the meat tastes more like leather than ham. In fact, I often wonder if that is where leather actually comes from.
After we're done eating, Mom clears the plates off the table, as Dad finishes his coffee. I swear he takes forever on purpose. Then, Mom, Abby, and I head back into the living room to wait for Dad to make his grand entrance. While in the kitchen, he puts on his Santa hat and then comes into the living room with a “Ho,ho,ho!” Then, Dad, and only Dad, reaches under the tree and hands out gifts one at a time.
I kind of like our tradition. At my best friend Tommy’s house, all of the gifts are in a pile under the tree. Then at the same time, everybody rips everything open. According to Tommy, it takes all of five minutes. Sure you get your gifts a lot quicker that way, but I like the suspense of getting one at a time. And Dad makes it fun, saying stuff like, “hmm this gift says ‘‘fragile’’ on it, here you go Nathan,” and then pretends like he is going to throw it while we all scream, “No!”
One by one, Dad passes out our gifts until there is only one gift left. It is always for Mom, and it is always jewelry from Dad. For some reason that I will never understand, the jewelry always makes Mom cry. You would think that Dad would stop giving gifts to Mom every year that make her so sad, but he doesn’t seem to have figured that one out yet. If it were me, I’d give Mom a puppy. Who doesn’t smile when they see a cute puppy?
So that's pretty much it! See? I wasn't kidding when I said my Dad is big on traditions. He says that traditions are part of what makes families so special. I think I have to agree with Dad on that one.
Hi Millie - thanks for having me on your blog!
So - uh - I've never been on a blog before. I'm not really sure what I'm doing here, but Millie says she wants me to talk about Christmas. Well - it's only my favorite holiday! It's my Dad's favorite holiday, too. He's really big into traditions. For one thing, he insists that we don’t open our presents until after breakfast. My friends all think it's torturous that we have to wait, but I don’’t mind at all. Christmas morning is the one-day a year, I can be certain I will have an amazing breakfast. I know this, because Christmas morning is the one morning a year –– the only morning of the year –– when Mom stays out of the kitchen. (Trust me - this is a good thing!) Even on Mother’’s Day, Mom insists on making breakfast. But on Christmas morning, Dad takes over, making his infamous chocolate chip and apple pancakes.
Every year, Abby (that's my older sister) and I have to wait in the living room after we wake up, while Dad cooks breakfast. He doesn’t let anyone in the kitchen while he is cooking. Even Mom has to wait in the living room, although it might do her some good to watch what Dad is doing. Abby and I sit on the floor, getting as close to the presents as we can, without touching them, trying to figure out what’’s in each box. Mom sits on the couch reading her newspaper, pretending not to notice, but really, she is making sure we do not spoil any surprises.
After Dad calls us into breakfast, Mom walks over to the tree to make sure nothing has been disturbed. I savor every bite of Dad's pancakes. It may be my last good meal in quite some time! Mom will be making her traditional Christmas ham for dinner. It’s not that I don’t like ham, it’s just that Mom has this thing about making sure the ham is cooked enough. By the time Mom gets through with it, the meat tastes more like leather than ham. In fact, I often wonder if that is where leather actually comes from.
After we're done eating, Mom clears the plates off the table, as Dad finishes his coffee. I swear he takes forever on purpose. Then, Mom, Abby, and I head back into the living room to wait for Dad to make his grand entrance. While in the kitchen, he puts on his Santa hat and then comes into the living room with a “Ho,ho,ho!” Then, Dad, and only Dad, reaches under the tree and hands out gifts one at a time.
I kind of like our tradition. At my best friend Tommy’s house, all of the gifts are in a pile under the tree. Then at the same time, everybody rips everything open. According to Tommy, it takes all of five minutes. Sure you get your gifts a lot quicker that way, but I like the suspense of getting one at a time. And Dad makes it fun, saying stuff like, “hmm this gift says ‘‘fragile’’ on it, here you go Nathan,” and then pretends like he is going to throw it while we all scream, “No!”
One by one, Dad passes out our gifts until there is only one gift left. It is always for Mom, and it is always jewelry from Dad. For some reason that I will never understand, the jewelry always makes Mom cry. You would think that Dad would stop giving gifts to Mom every year that make her so sad, but he doesn’t seem to have figured that one out yet. If it were me, I’d give Mom a puppy. Who doesn’t smile when they see a cute puppy?
So that's pretty much it! See? I wasn't kidding when I said my Dad is big on traditions. He says that traditions are part of what makes families so special. I think I have to agree with Dad on that one.
| Hey did you know that I helped Santa deliver his presents one year? Yup it's true! You can read all about it in my book ----------------> You know what? Being on a blog is pretty cool! |  |
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