The First Wave...

Mom and her white sons.  I picked out the hats.

Even after our marathon shopping session yesterday, Trish and I still hadn’t picked up anything for today’s guests, Chris and Dan.  So even though we dragged our tired asses into Jersey after midnight, we got up early on Christmas Eve to hit Kohl’s before the panic-stricken masses realized they had forgotten to get something for their crazy Aunt Lucinda and her beloved cat, Lord Chubby Pickleton III.

We arrived around 10 AM and the parking lot was already a bumper-to-bumper nightmare.  In another hour or so, the pavement would be strewn with the rotting carcasses of shoppers who dared get in the way of a suburban mom in her Range Rover and a prime spot in the lot.

Luckily, the store wasn’t yet completely picked over and the check-out line was still of manageable length.  So again, Trish and I split up for maximum shopping efficiency.  I ran to the back of the store and picked up matching hats and scarves for the boys while Trish ran to the Ladies’ Department for a few last minute extras for the weekend’s many guests.  In just under an hour, we were back at Juan and Val's and getting ready for the first wave of revelers.

Due to the sheer volume of gifts, we converted Juan's
basement workbench into wrapping central.

As I added some gay glitz to the last couple of presents, the boys arrived for dinner with their beloved baby, Dewey, a toy Dachshund. 

Mom and dad - well, mostly mom - refer to Chris and Dan as their white sons.  So she was overjoyed to have the whole family (including Gerry) all together on Christmas Eve for the first time ever.  Yes, Gerry finally ventured passed the Mason-Dixon line to spend the holidays in the civilized North.

The evening was marked by excessive eating and drinking - pretty much on par with any Pineda soirée.  The highlight of the evening's festivities? - Dan's scrumptious rum cake.  It's alcohol and dessert in one tidy little package - the ideal Pineda food. 

Dewey & Chris serenade us with the joyous sounds
of the holiday.

After dinner we exchanged gifts, Dewey led us in a few carols and we all passed around a pack of Tums.  The boys left early since they had to drive back to the city.  Bloated and drunk, we got dressed for an early Christmas Eve mass. 

This year, God delivered a Christmas miracle by not booking us for Christmas church jobs.  Well, at least he showed some pity on Val and I.  Juan and Trish still ended up working Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.  Still, in order to appease the parents, Val and I agreed to accompany them to Christmas Eve Mass. 

Giddy from the rum cake and tipsy from wine, Val and I unashamedly belted out the Christmas hymns at the top of our lungs along with the cantors.  The family sitting directly in front of us even thanked us for singing so nicely.  The young soprano cantor didn’t fare as well and bit it on “Oh, Holy Night.”  For some reason she couldn’t find her first pitch and did this crazy Patti LuPone-esque slide up to the correct note after seemingly guessing at her first pitch.  Awkward.

After a midnight snack and extra slice of rum cake, I was ready to jump into bed and ready to envision some sugar plums dancing in my head.