Christmas - Extended Family Edition

One wouldn't think that my main story about Christmas to be about Old Crow bourbon.  But hey, every family is different, right?  Now, Old Crow is awful.  But not as awful as you'd think (it's one of Serious Eat's favorite bottom shelf liquors).   Drinking Old Crow has always been a family tradition, down to shots at my grandfather's funeral and the bottles gifted to us from Pa the Christmas after he passed away.  Until fairly recently, I was extremely squeamish about alcohol.  My first sip of non-communion wine was when I was 20, and I did not like it.  I didn't drink again until someone sent me three mini bottles of champagne for my 21st birthday!  ...and even then I think I mixed them with orange juice.  Anyway, despite the fact that my last trip to the liquor store cost me $525 and I'm now a girl who loves her cocktails, I think the old stereotype dies hard, and my family is convinced that I don't drink.

So, it was hilarious when at the annual family Christmas gathering, there were three independent events all commenting on the same exact subject of Old Crow.  Not even kidding.

Uncle Number 1:  Bridget, this Old Crow is from 2003.  How old were you in 2003?  And why isn't it gone yet? 

Uncle Number 2:  Bridget, seriously, you have half a bottle of Old Crow left.  Why did your brother not make you drink this on your birthday?

Cousin Number 1:  Bridget, when did you turn 21?  Wasn't that four years ago?  I think you're the only one in the family to take this long to drink your Old Crow.

My response:  Oh my WORD.  Do you people think I don't drink?  I've gone through two handles of Old Crow in Boston, I promise I drink!  I just haven't spent much time in Minnesota since I turned 21!

They all just look at me, thinking I'm making excuses.  So I take a shot.  And five minutes later, another.  Jeesh.

But the other best story about my Christmas was this little lady:

My mom gave her a set of plastic food and an apron to go along with Santa's gift, a play kitchen!  And boy oh boy was she ever a great cook!

Ayden and Hillary, kept in a bedroom for most of the afternoon, were let out once, and Ayden ran right for the bright pink apron-clad young cousin of mine, practically knocking her over.  She's used to giant dogs, though, so she was a champ through the whole thing.