I blame Daryl M Bell

Since I wasn't asked and could not possibly do the Christmas hoopla meme, I decided to share a Christmas memory with yall.

While working/ watching E!/ talking to Lauren about how she doesn't have 12 things to say about Christmas, I realized I too don't remember much about Christmases past. There's the ONE time we had a real tree and the smell gave me a headache, the last Christmas we got gifts, the one where my dad bought us a box of random gifts, and the one where Daryl Bell got me in trouble.

One Christmas we stayed at my grandma's house. I'm still not sure why... It may have been because we were locked out of our house, but all our gifts were at grandma's. Maybe that was the original plan: to have Christmas with her. I should ask mom.

So anyways, 7year old Joy, and mom sitting in the living room watching tv late Christmas eve. I mean late. It was probably like midnight. Grandma's in the dining area, sitting in her kitchen chair. Until recently that's where you were guaranteed to find her. She is just comfier in a wooden chair than the couch. Now she's been required to sit in an armchair. Doctor's orders. She looks more regal these days, in the big chair with her arms crossed, looking stern but actually just focused (I get that from her). But I digress.

Some stand up comedy show was on. My mom sat on the floor wrapping my 3 year old brother's stuff. I was on the couch, staring into the Christmas tree, lost in thought about who knows what. When I snapped out of it, a short black man was going on about something, and my mom was laughing. I was lost and wanted to know what was so funny.

"what in the hell is he talking about?"

"excuse me?"

Ok. I knew hell was a bad word. I had already gotten in trouble 3 years prior for calling my God sister a bitch. For taking my fork. In church. Loudly. I knew better. I REALLY meant to say heck! Really! It just came out so wrong!

"Come here."

As I slid off the couch to the floor, defeated and wincing, I could only muster a few words in my defense: "but, Ron Johnson..." before a swift smack to the mouth silenced and shocked me.

I was sent away to my grandmother's bedroom, crying and looking pitiful. As I cried, I thought about what went wrong. When I watched my 2nd favorite show, A Different World (cosby was #1), and Ron said that line, it was funny! Why then, did I get in trouble? I'm a victim of influence! Had I known that term at age 7 I certainly would have used it. And I really meant to say heck! Really! I couldn't explain it to her. But I could hear my grandmother pleading my case through the wall. I began to fear for my gifts.

I spent what seemed like forever in that room, in the dark, tracing the stitching of my grandmother's comforter. Soon my mother called me out and asked me if I was sorry.

"I'm sorry mommy." my little chin tucked into my Cathy pajamas. (by the way, who buys a kid Cathy pajamas? Why were they even made? Cathy had to be the worst comic strip in the funny pages. I might as well have been wearing Mark Trail footies.)

"good. Now go to sleep." I lay on the couch and fell asleep after a few minutes.

The next morning, I woke up. All had been forgiven but hardly forgotten. I still don't curse in front of my mother. I opened my gifts, the best of all being my "intendo," complete with Super Mario Bros 3! Oh joyous holiday! Later my family came over, ate a big dinner, and played and made that little apartment seem like a castle. There had to have been 30 people in there. Grandma made a 7up cake that didn't taste like soda, but I loved it anyway. Aunt Pat made a ham with pineapples, which I stabbed at and munched like a greedy orphan.

I would have to say that was my favorite Christmas, and not just because I can remember so many details. Or maybe that is why. It was just so indicative of what my family was. And I'm still mad at Daryl. Had it not been for his brilliant comedic timing, I would have not gotten in trouble! However, I'd probably not have this memory if not for the smack in the mouth. So I guess I could be thanking him too.
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