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Grandma Hated Me At Christmas

Image used under a Collective Commons License from https://www.flickr.com/photos/edenpictures/4283035716

My Grandma hated me at Christmas! It’s true. While Christmas spent with the family was a lot of fun for me and my cousins, I did unwittingly cause a lot of work for my Grandma after we went home again.

Every year when I was growing up, we would travel north to spend Christmas at my Grandma’s house with the family.

It was great fun spending Christmas with my cousins and we always had a great family Christmas party on Boxing Day with the whole family present. It was seriously a house full and the kitchen would be filled with lots of yummy food and bottles of alcohol, which my cousins and I frequently sampled!

But the most fun thing of all for me over Christmas was the balloons.

Unlike nowadays, when Christmas Crackers are pretty poor, our Christmas Crackers back then always had balloons in them, and having “cracked” them on Christmas Day, I would blow the balloons up and “bat” them all around the house, which drove not only my Grandma but ALL the adults in the house mad.

Those poor old balloons would be hit and bounced up and down and all around the house all day long, great fun back then in the days before video games and when we only had 2 channels on the television.

But the other thing I loved to do with the balloons was to rub then on my sweater to create static electricity, and then I would reach up and stick them magically to the ceiling in the living room. Sometimes there would be as many as a dozen, even more balloons stuck up there on the ceiling, and they would stay up there if you did it right for days, weeks even.

However, after the Christmas holidays were over and we had gone home, and this is why Grandma hated me at Christmas, is that when it was time for the balloons to come down off the living room ceiling, they would leave behind black rings where the dust had stuck to the ceiling because of the static electricity.

With my Grandma not being particularly tall and getting on in years, is was left to my Aunt to come and stand on a stool and scrub the ceiling. Those black marks came easily enough, but they sure took a lot of scrubbing to get off again.

Well, that’s they Grandma hated me at Christmas. Do you have any funny family stories from your Christmases growing up? If so, please leave a comment for our other visitors to see.

Have a wonderful Christmas.


Image used under a Collective Commons License from https://www.flickr.com/photos/edenpictures/4283035716

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