Waking Up Early for Christmas

The point of the fuckin’ story is that it doesn’t matter like, if you believe in Santa Claus or not, like, you get sick fucking hockey skates and hockey sticks and fuckin’  like paint ball gear and like the dopest clothes ever on Christmas. And you need to be awake by dawn otherwise there’s daylight that’s burning you’re not playing with your new fucking hockey shit or paintball gear. I got a laptop one time.

That’s probably in my top 3. Probably like the third of my top three though.

Literally until I was thirteen-years old, me and my brother slept in the doorways of our rooms so that we could, like, wake up at seven a.m., run down the stairs, open our stockings, and be stoked as fuck about our stockings – just go to sleep on the living room floor for two more hours. Like, once the sun’s been up for an hour, you gotta wake up. Literally, by eleven, we’d be on our way to my mom’s house, but we also had like two Christmases, so we’d have a lot to get through. Then we’d have to go back to my dad’s for the afternoon. and then back to my mom’s for Christmas dinner. We’d go back and forth the whole day, which was actually kind of fun but you’d get sick of family. We sometimes went to more of our family.

Thank the sweet Lord, Baby Jesus.


Easily the most fun I had in any interview. This was actually done with multiple informants and can be followed by “A Different Christmas Morning Ritual” and “Christmas Dinner” for more of the same. This informant expresses how belief in the religious foundations of a celebration aren’t absolutely necessary, but rather emphasized the time that he spent with his family. This prescription of Christmas aligns with a more wholesome take on the holiday that it’s about family, not materialism… Even though he does admit to liking getting “sick fucking hockey skates.”