It's a Christmas Miracle!

I'm putting up two posts for December 24 and 25. This one is going to be silly, and the other one is going to be a safe space to vent bad feelings. If you feel like you've got anything to give these two days, please stop over there and say something kind to someone who's feeling bad.

Over here, we can share some dopey stories. I know I've shared before about how my family has a tradition of calling things "Christmas miracles" and then telling the stories year after year. Here are the two we tell the most:

The Christmas Box of Socks Miracle: My grandfather was newly married to my grandmother, and it was Christmas Eve, and he'd had a bit too much to drink and had been sent out to go walk it off a bit and go to the store to get something. As he was walking, a car came speeding down the street and the window rolled down and he heard someone yell, "And all you got me was SOCKS!" and then a box flew out the window and landed at his feet as the car sped away. Of course my grandfather picked up the box, took it back home with him, and when he opened it there were pairs and pairs of new socks, all his size. IT WAS A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE.

The Slivovitz Miracle: My dad likes to drink slivovitz (plum brandy) at Christmas. My brother had given him a big bottle the previous year, but after having only about two shots' worth out of the bottle, it had disappeared. So when my brother gave my dad a bottle of it the next year, we were hoping the same thing wouldn't happen. Not only did it not disappear, but when my dad went to the cabinet in which he keeps the shotglasses he only uses at Christmas time, he found the bottle of slivovitz from the previous year! It hadn't disappeared after all, and now he had TWO bottles of slivovitz. IT WAS A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE.

Now you go: What ridiculous stories does your family tell or what crazy traditions do you have?