School ends and I leave to get on the bus. I arrive home and it’s 3:46 PM on December 23rd. I’d say winter break has officially begun.
I run up the driveway after a long, exhausting day of school and I swing open the door to the smell of a sweet sensation that flows down the hallways from the kitchen. I plop my school bag down on the hardwood floor and follow the pleasurable scents. I step into the kitchen and my eyes are overwhelmed at the sight of dozens upon dozens of cookies that scatter around the countertops.
“Holy cow Mom! That’s a lotta cookies,” I exclaimed.
“Oh, it’s not that many,” my mom denies as she turns off the Christmas music and wipes her hands off on a towel.
“What are you planning to do with all these?” I question as I grab a cookie that was already frosted.
“I’m sure the neighbors would love to have some,” my mother replies with a smile on her face. “Oh that reminds me, I had better call Joyce before she leaves tonight,” she adds and leaves to find her phone.
“I’m home,” my dad smiles as he walks through the door, home early from work.
“Yay!” I excitedly say, “when are grandma and grandpa supposed to be here?” I add.
“They should be here any time now,” he answers as he hangs his coat on the coat rack in the entry way.
Minutes later, I hear the doorbell ring and I already know who it is.
“They’re here,” I announce as I jog to the door.  I hear a loud gasp just after the door opens and my grandparents stand there like they haven’t seen me in five years.
“Hi, honey!” my grandparents say in unison while holding the gifts they brought.  My grandma hands me the gifts she carries, then starts to lean in. I can already smell the coffee breath. I cringe as she plants a nasty, wet kiss on the side of my face, leaving her burgundy lipstick behind. “Oh the horror,” I think and shiver as she pulls away. I quickly place the presents on the floor, and before I get the chance to wipe my face on my sleeve, my grandpa hugs me. My mom helps me while they relocate the greet fest into the living room.
“Can they not stay at our house?” I ask my mom using a certain tone. She already knows I’m irritated.
“Why? We have enough space for them,” she replies, taking some of the presents out of my hands
“If they’re taking my room then no, we don’t,” I mutter.
“Oh come on now, it’s not that bad, they’re only staying two nights,” she states.
“Can’t you just tell them we don’t have room and they’ll have to check into a hotel?” I countered knowing she won’t change her mind any time soon.
“No, they are staying here,” she snaps then leaves toward the living room.
“This is going to be a long two days. What if I don’t want to give up my room to them? Why can’t they take my brother’s room? He’s the younger one.” I complain to myself as I stand there. I enter the living room and as I glance out the window I spot a blue jay perched on the porch railing. Stepping closer to the window, by the Christmas tree, it turns its head quickly to watch me. It sits there a for a little while, looking at me, then flies away. I arrange the presents before my grandparents start asking too many questions such as the dreaded, “so how’s school?”, “are there any boys at school you like?”, “do you know what you’re doing after you finish high school?” Like no, I don’t want to talk about school because I’m on break, and it’s called a “break” for a reason. I manage to hide for a little bit before I hear footsteps coming down the hallway towards my room.
“So your dad told us that we’d be sleeping in here for the next couple nights,” my grandpa informed as he entered my room with their packed bags.
“Yeah, I heard that too so I guess were on the same page,” I force a laugh.
The rest of the night wasn’t as boring as I thought it’d be but it could’ve gone better because I actually wanted to sleep in MY bed, and I definitely didn’t want a pink lipstick stain on my cheek, that’s for sure.
Waking up from a deep sleep, I realize it’s Christmas Eve day. I wipe the crust that sits in the corners of my eyes and sit up. I look over at the alarm clock that sits on the night stand by the side of my brother’s bed. It’s already 9:56 and I slide out of the bed, still half asleep and the house is silent. I trudge down the hallway and I observe that everyone has left the house. I proceed toward the kitchen to get some cookies and I discover a note on the table. It says, “Had to get some groceries and last minute things for tonight. –Mom”.
I make myself some breakfast and it occurs to me that I haven’t seen my little brother. I look around a little bit and call for him but I hear nothing. I begin to worry about him, and then I hear some laughter coming from the back yard. I look out the window above the sink and see him and his friend, in their puffy winter attire, playing in the snow.
My parents and grandparents arrive home and we start to prepare our Christmas Eve dinner. My mom, grandma, and I sit in the kitchen sipping on eggnog and chatting, while my dad, grandpa, and brother watch whatever is on the television. After preparing the food, we all eat together. There’s a peaceful silence besides the clanking noises of silverware against plates. We appreciate and enjoy each other’s company as we start to finish up and move on to dessert. To round off the evening, we regain our Christmas spirit through watching Christmas movies and sitting on the couches curled up with blankets. Feeling the heat from the fireplace that warms my body, I begin to doze off.
I wake up Christmas morning to the sound of my little brother screaming with joy. He runs in the room and starts jumping on my bed.
“Wake up! Wake up! Santa came!” he yells and sprints back out of the room.
I flutter my eyes open to see that the sun is just beginning to peek out over the hills in the distance. Sitting up on the bed, I notice the delicate little snowflakes gliding through the slight wind that blows outside. I roll out of bed and I hear that my brother is waking up everyone else. I walk into the living room and see him gazing at the perfectly placed presents under the tree. He stands there as if he’s never experienced anything this spectacular before. Like he hasn’t already had five Christmases before this one.
“I can’t wait any longer!” He shrieks then starts to tear the paper off his gifts.  My brother and I sit on the floor while my parents and grandparents take up the two sofas. I take the time to stop and just notice all the fun we are having. I’m thankful for this moment along with all the others. The Christmas spirit really does bring people joy, no matter what your age is.