The Christmas That Tried To Take Me Out
The Christmas That Tried To Take Me Out (based on no true events whatsoever)
Let me tell you something — this wasn’t just a bad Christmas.
This was a full-scale, holiday-themed ambush.
Christmas didn’t wake up that morning.
It clocked in, put on steel-toe boots, and said, “Yeah… today we’re choosing violence.”
It started early. Too early.
The alarm went off like it was late for work, even though nobody asked it to.
I rolled out of bed already tired of a holiday that hadn’t even had the decency to fail yet.
The tree?
Leaning. Not festive leaning.
Suspicious leaning.
Like it was waiting for the right moment to fall and embarrass me in front of everyone.
Presents?
Wrapped beautifully…
for the wrong people.
Nothing says Christmas magic like opening a gift and realizing halfway through the paper rip that you’ve committed a felony.
The food?
Oh, the food had opinions.
One dish was burned like it had a grudge.
Another was still frozen, spiritually and physically.
Something smelled amazing, but nobody could identify what it was — which immediately made it dangerous.
Then the power went out.
Not for long.
Just long enough to reset every clock in the house to a time that doesn’t exist.
Bluetooth betrayed me next.
Instead of Christmas music, it connected to something from my phone that should’ve stayed buried in history.
Suddenly the room was silent in the way only regret can create.
Family conversations got weird fast.
Not arguments — worse.
Those long pauses where everyone pretends nothing just happened while clearly remembering everything.
The weather showed up late and aggressive.
Plans were canceled.
Coats were worn indoors.
Someone said, “This isn’t what the forecast said,” like the forecast has ever told the truth.
The tree finally fell.
Of course it did.
Right when things were calming down.
Because peace is unacceptable on this day.
By the time the night was over, I was exhausted, confused, and holding a plate of food I didn’t remember asking for.
And that’s when I realized something important.
It wasn’t a bad Christmas.
It wasn’t a disastrous Christmas.
It was just Christmas…
doing Christmas things.
So yeah.
Merry Christmas to me.
Would I do it again next year?
Absolutely.
Because apparently I learn nothing.
