We always got a real Christmas tree. It wasn't really
Christmas without a real evergreen tree like Jesus had.
It was purchased around Dec. 1 every year. (dad would
say he stole it off the lot). It was taken down on New
Years day.
Needless to say, when we took it outside and put a
match to the sucker, it simply exploded like raw gasoline.
I looked forward to that each year.
It is nothing short of a miracle that we didn't have a
major fire in our home with mom and dad smoking their Pall
Malls, candles, and me, loving the whole concept of beautiful
fire.

The heartwarming Christmas carols we used to sing
were the highlight of the festivities.
Some of my favorites were, "We three kings of are we
in tar?” 
Also, "see the snow bunch, hear the kids crunch", and “Deck the house with kitty vomit". 
The mandatory,” 0 Tannenbomb.”
Mom loved to dress us in lederhosen when we
sang that song.
"Grandma got run over by a reindeer" was a must, and
we would traditionally end the concert by barking out "Doggy
Jingle Bells.”
The melodious and serendipitous harmonies coming
from our uvulated, virgin throats, produced a sweet angelic
sound that touched the hearts of people standing around,
as well as any wild beasts that may have been lurking
nearby.
Oh, my yes! These were the wonderful, traditional,
ancient and contemporary Christmas songs so fondly
adored by the Glirkazoids. (they said, “Doggy Jingle
Bells”can blow your mind after snorting crushed candy
cane, TOTALLY!)
My dad, of course, despised every "golden" note
coming from our precious wittle mouths. (I don’t know why
you keep saying my dad was bad! He was just Christmasly
challenged.)