This year, I decided to approach the whole Christmas thing in peace. I made the conscious decision to skip the Christmas sweets baking (three days worth of work and they would get stolen, anyway), and I did not decorate the tree, either. Also, my grandmother passed away this year, so our traditional family meeting on the 25th was cancelled. The festive feel was thus only evoked in the way I set the dinner table for me and my dad, where some continuity was maintained through the plates inherited from my grandma and the traditional carrot flowers in the fish soup. Only with the presents, it turned out a little extreme this time: while I gave my dad a grand gift of smashing his car, to me, the best present I ever got for Christmas has somehow found a way. UPDATE: Turns out my best present was pretty equal to the smashed car I got for my dad. Justice, after all?


