365 Random Days of Team Zybko
Day # 248
November 18th, 2012
Traditions Are Like Nicknames
Have you ever tried to give yourself a nickname? No? Really?
OK, maybe only me and George Costanza have thought this is totally cool. Like fellow Seinfeld fans I figured out quickly it doesn't work that way. No matter how hard you try. Nick names come about in the strangest ways, from unexpected people and usually evolve over time. I'm sorry to all the people I ignored a few years back, I actually heard you but was waiting for you to call me by my new self appointed nickname. I barely socialized in that season, go figure. No one, not even my besties agreed to refer to me as Cupcake.
Anyhow, I also feel this way about Holiday traditions. Can't force these type of annual memories. Being raised in an oversize Hallmark card I was eager to do everything just the way we did when I grew up.
To relive the warm, loving feeling with my own kids would be as sweet as fresh icing on a.... uh....cupcake. It can work, I know. I have heard of families who successfully carry on and pass down traditions from generation to generation. Good job if it works for you. And yes, I would love to come over Christmas Eve for some eggnog and roasted chestnuts by the toasty, cozy fire. I may be late though, cause our family goes out for good ole American Chinese food. Don't worry, I will come bearing gifts. Leftover fried rice, fortune cookies and wiped off chopsticks.
In my old age I'd like to believe I am a teensy weensy bit wiser than a few years back. After many seasons of epic fails in the re-run tradition department I've given up. Given up forcing memories around old traditions that sound way more glamorous and Norman Rockwell-ish than new ones. New to us traditions that seem to just happen and evolve over time. It has taken me a while but I am much better at just letting things roll. Non-picture perfect doesn't mean it's non-OK. If you wanna hear more about this or correct my non-good grammar, met me at the Waffle house on Palmetto Street for a late Christmas breakfast. Look for the loud, un-showered, happy family still in their pajamas....making this particular family tradition unforgettable. You can't miss us, but just in case,
the table is under CUPCAKE.
Have you ever tried to give yourself a nickname? No? Really?
OK, maybe only me and George Costanza have thought this is totally cool. Like fellow Seinfeld fans I figured out quickly it doesn't work that way. No matter how hard you try. Nick names come about in the strangest ways, from unexpected people and usually evolve over time. I'm sorry to all the people I ignored a few years back, I actually heard you but was waiting for you to call me by my new self appointed nickname. I barely socialized in that season, go figure. No one, not even my besties agreed to refer to me as Cupcake.
Anyhow, I also feel this way about Holiday traditions. Can't force these type of annual memories. Being raised in an oversize Hallmark card I was eager to do everything just the way we did when I grew up.
To relive the warm, loving feeling with my own kids would be as sweet as fresh icing on a.... uh....cupcake. It can work, I know. I have heard of families who successfully carry on and pass down traditions from generation to generation. Good job if it works for you. And yes, I would love to come over Christmas Eve for some eggnog and roasted chestnuts by the toasty, cozy fire. I may be late though, cause our family goes out for good ole American Chinese food. Don't worry, I will come bearing gifts. Leftover fried rice, fortune cookies and wiped off chopsticks.
In my old age I'd like to believe I am a teensy weensy bit wiser than a few years back. After many seasons of epic fails in the re-run tradition department I've given up. Given up forcing memories around old traditions that sound way more glamorous and Norman Rockwell-ish than new ones. New to us traditions that seem to just happen and evolve over time. It has taken me a while but I am much better at just letting things roll. Non-picture perfect doesn't mean it's non-OK. If you wanna hear more about this or correct my non-good grammar, met me at the Waffle house on Palmetto Street for a late Christmas breakfast. Look for the loud, un-showered, happy family still in their pajamas....making this particular family tradition unforgettable. You can't miss us, but just in case,
the table is under CUPCAKE.
One of my favorite Zybko holiday traditions is bowling time. A few events during this slightly, competitive induced afternoon are predictable year to year but never the less still note worthy.
Diane will call first dibs at the computer,
entering the name of every family member under an alias.
Lil David will pretend to get his thumb caught in the ball even though he throws the ball with the palm of his hand.
La La will cheese it up.
Older siblings will volunteer to help younger ones win at the claw machine. T H E C L A W....
Coupons will be cashed in for disposable, plastic prizes.
Pizza will taste so good even though we could have made the same kind at home for a fraction of the price.
Potential Christmas card pictures will be set up.
Bonding.
Goofing around.
I will find a way to sneak in the story of me bowling strike after strike creating my personal best while simultaneously breastfeeding. Left boob of course, after all I am right handed.
Manhood's will be challenged.
Whoa whoa whoa and Diane will step in.
Fred Flintstone will bowl a strike.
Victory dances get complicated. Then we know it's our cue to go.
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