Auntie Kate The Resale Expert

As the only person in my shop without kids, parents, and others, I always worked Christmas Eve day from opening until our early closing at 4. While my staff enjoyed their family activities, I had to balance my career obligations with my social and in-law activities.

One Christmas Eve (I was much more foolish then) I decided I could manage an open house on Christmas Eve with over 45 people invited for 7 PM on. And Christmas Day dinner for the in-laws too. Well, with 3 hours between closing (and that was fun, too, since we always had champagne on Christmas Eve in the shop. I didn’t even TRY to balance the cash drawer…) and this party, no problemo. Really. It all worked out just fine, and yes, all 45 people plus their visiting families, stray friends and lost motorists showed up.

Christmas morning, after a sleepy and loving breakfast with DuH (see photo) under the Christmas tree, I roll up my sleeves to start Christmas dinner, which I have planned to be a lovely, specially-ordered standing rib roast from the butcher’s next door to my shop.

Only problem was, in my haste to get home for my open house, I’d totally forgotten that I had to pick up the roast.

Lee and Irv were awfully-good in-laws, dining happily on left-overs from the cocktail party. Another pig in a blanket, Irv? Have some more cheese ball, Lee, there’s plenty.

The very next year, Lee and Irv were looking forward to the Honey-baked Ham I promised them. I went off to work alone Christmas Eve, leaving DETAILED instructions for DuH (remember, he is the SON of Lee and Irv) re where the Honey-baked store was (we’d only lived in that area for 15 or so years; he’s a slow learner) AND prepping him on the fact that there will be a line. A LONG line. A “bring a book to read” line, okay? Okay, sez he, no problemo.

Remember, these are HIS parents.

Close the shop. Come home, 4PM+ on Christmas Eve. Relaxed and jovial DuH. No ham. “You should have seen that line. I’m not standing in that line. Besides it was snowing.” Hello, it’s Christmas Eve, you’re supposed to be delighted by the snow.

THAT Christmas, we had hot dogs. Yup, hot dogs. After all, it was THEIR son who done it.

Hope YOUR Christmas Eve is less blog-worthy. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and may all your in-laws be as good sports as mine were…two years in a row!

Update 2009: Well, apparently standing in line at Honeybaked Ham is easier when it’s 72 degrees and sunny, so the ham’s in the fridge, Kenny’s Kritters are on the lawn, and all’s right with the world. Peace unto y’all!