Up until this year I never had a problem with DFW, but lately I've been having nasty delays there. Basically what it comes down to is I can fly direct from Los Angeles to most places, but I have to deal with LAX, which I hate, or I can connect, usually through DFW, and fly out of Burbank, which I love.

I always got a tangerine in my stocking, which was useful in those mornings. We went to my paternal grandmother's place in Pennsylvania every year for xmas (only time of the year anyone got up the nerve to visit her) and the deal was that kids could get up and pillage their stockings at any time in the morning, but full on presents weren't opened until after lunch when all the family was assembled from around the city.

One adult had to be awake for stocking unstuffing, and they would take turns year to year for who had to get up early with the kids and who got to sleep in. We all knew it was parents and not santa stuffing the stockings, as my cousins' gifties were wrapped in different paper than mine.

I also usually had an assortment of hard peppermints in my stocking as i traditionally got violently ill every year and spent most of xmas day in the bathroom retching. Something about being in grandmother's extremely cold house made me sick. (In retrospect, she made also have been sneaking her famous home-made mayonnaise into the creamed chipped beef we had for breakfast. Or my vegetarian tendencies were already being encouraged by an unhappy tummy )

Violent retching is not a good Christmas tradition.

That same curmudgeonly grandmother also made stockings for each of her grandkids - i still have mine, red with elaborate cross stitch embroidery with my name and an elaborately decorated tree. I also have a green gingham stocking from after my parents separated, when mom liked to do a stocking at her place as well as one with dad's family.

We put out a plate of cookies for santa and carrots for the reindeer on xmas eve, and my father prided himself on personally knawing down the carrots to make them look (in the morning) like reindeer had chowed on them - unpeeled and uncleaned. yuck! Aunt Nancy lucked out and got cookie-eating duty. I found out about this a few years ago over a dinner with lots of wine. I now understand when dad always protested my desire to leave out hay for the reindeer, since it would be a PITA for santa to have to hand feed carrots to the reindeer when he was clearly on such a tight delivery schedule.

My cat refused to let me sleep this morning.

Violent retching is not a good Christmas tradition.

This is why i hated visiting grandmother. I've managed to outgrow that tradition, what with the no longer eating nasty things like venison and beef :)

All of my grandparents were thousands of miles away, so they weren't part of the Christmas tradition. At times I'm kinda thankful for that. Also most of them had passed away by the time I was five.

We opened one present Christmas Eve, then Christmas morning we were not allowed downstairs until my mother woke up. And we were not allowed to wake her up. When we went downstairs, we could peek in our stockings and check things out, but did not open things until after breakfast, which Dad made - scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, hot chocolate.

My niece has been doing the early morning thing at Christmas for years now. The present I would like the most is to just sleep in on Christmas morning.

Kind of funny immediate family Christmas/Holiday tradition story.

Last Christmas we spent at my brother and SIL's. When making food/menu arrangements, my SIL asked my dad to make his famous cinnamon rolls. My dad was very confused, and informed my SIL that mom makes the cinnamon rolls, so she should ask mom.

SIL was very apologetic and said, "Well I'll have to change that in the family cookbook. Ben told me that you [dad] made them."

Dad: I just make the frosting.

Mom and Dad tended to be up late finishing up things for Christmas, so Ben never actually saw who made the cinnamon rolls. He just new that on Christmas morning, Dad made the frosting and frosted the rolls. So, clearly Dad must have made the rolls.

Mom LOVES to tease my poor brother about this, and we now call them "Dad's Famous Cinnamon Rolls."

Our stockings, whether from Santa or Mom, were designed specifically to keep us occupied and let the grownups sleep a bit. We got candy, tiny knickknacks, and always, always a book and some little puzzle-type object. We couldn't wake anyone else up or open wrapped presents before everyone was up, but the stockings were fair game and there was always something in them to keep us occupied for at least an hour.