A Traditional Family Christmas
It wasn't until that first Christmas with your family
that I realised how we all do it differently,
how every family forges its own traditions, as bright
and distinct as any giant, shining star.
The way you laid out coal sacks instead of stockings;
the recital of a limerick before the opening of each present,
Christopher Lee's heavy metal Christmas album
playing quietly in the background; the pre-breakfast snorkel;
the Dance of the Seven Baubles; the festive epaulettes;
lunch with its ptarmigan fritters in milk sauce,
the suet potatoes, and the sweet and sour popcorn;
the replenishing of glasses with red turkey wine;
sprout-rolling in the park; the posting of a tinsel stick
through Mr Jennings' letterbox; and back for an evening of TV
(some classic episodes of Panorama) and games
(Hoist the Pickle, No Elbows Please!, Speculum) then bed.
The following year you came to my family for Christmas.
You said later that it was weird.
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