It’s something of a Christmas Day tradition in my family to do three things:
1. Play backyard cricket
And I allow this, for although I normally loathe and despise what I officially term ‘stupid cricket’, with modified rules that you must swing at everything and it’s tips and run, it’s bearable. If I manage to bowl my brother out, I might even term it fun.
2. Have a water fight
Admittedly, this tradition comes from an era where water was in greater supply and restrictions didn’t exist and has, due to draconian but necessary Queensland water restrictions, been phased out. For the record (and before you send me chastising emails), there was often more bomb than water, and it was the anticipation of the event and the squealing-fun, hide-and-seek chase that was more important than actually water bombing anyone.
3. Read the books you received from Santa
This has always been my favourite part of the day. The body’s need to recline and digest the mountains of food it’s ingested lends itself to my two favourite activities: reading and sleeping. The snooze is optional, and there have been plenty of years where I’ve powered through sans nap because the book I’ve obtained is too good to put down.
It’s also the part of the day where I no longer appear rude to be off reading a book—my socialising with the extended family has been fully fulfilled and everyone else is doing the same thing. It’s not that I don’t like my family, of course. It’s just that Christmas invariably brings with it some excellent and often highly anticipated (or simply regularly hinted for) books, and it’s difficult for me to tear my eyes away from them once they’re in my hands.
But the afternoon reward of reading and napping in turn leads itself to my second favourite part of Christmas Day.
4. Battle the relos in Trivial Pursuit
Reinvigorated by the afternoon nap and keen to engage in some more friendly banter and competition, Christmas Day ends with the obligatory and fiercely contested game of Trivial Pursuit. It starts with much discussion about who’s on which team. (For the record, you want to be on my father’s. The man’s a freak. We put it down to the fact that he’s and insomniac and bookworm and that he does, as a result, read an almost unparalleled number and variety of books.)
It ends with much good-natured debate about the answers to questions, whether something is ‘your final answer’, someone giving hints for those who are struggling, those of us younger ones bemoaning that we weren’t alive when an event happened and that we’re disadvantaged, giving ridiculous responses like ‘Hitler’ when we have no idea, and someone putting the piece of the pie in the wrong way and someone else having to employ surgical-like procedure to dislodge and correctly re-lodge it before the game can continue.
In all, it’s a lovely and relaxed way to spend Christmas Day and one that indulges my main interests. It’s also inspires me to read more books to improve my Trivial Pursuit skills. Currently, as the youngest child with fewer years of reading under her belt, I’m the team’s weakest link. This means I’m often paired with my father as a kind of handicap to even out the brainpower. Fortunately, he often still manages to carry me over the trivia line, which means that even though I might contribute the fewest correct answers, I’m more often than not on the winning team.
I’ve threatened in recent years to buy a newer, more Gen Y version of Trivial Pursuit (I can’t help but think the reason there are now a variety of themes of the game is because youngest siblings like me got jack of being useless or out of the question loop), but in a lot of ways I’d prefer to read more and expand my general knowledge so I can answer the questions in our existing and fairly old version.
So, here’s to a food-, family, stupid cricket-, reading-, napping-, and Trivial Pursuit-filled Christmas, where I will delight in great books and may contribute the odd useful and correct answer. I hope you have a great Christmas too.