We split up into groups, decide which group has which portion of the song (which is a major feat in and of itself in my family) and, in no particular order, and at a pitch that would make most dogs howl, we sing (or yell) the Twelve Days of Christmas. And here my love/hate relationship lies. "Are we really doing this? Seriously? How old are we? This is so immature! Oh SweetBabyJesus forgive us for ruining your birthday party with this song" I think quietly to myself. Sometimes (ok, most of the time) I can be a bit dramatic. I like to think of it as being emotional, it sounds sweeter than dramatic. Either way, I cringe, then sing. And before I know it my cringe is replaced with laughter... and my love/hate relationship turns from hate, to love. It's in those moments, when we let go, give in, and laugh, that memories are born. It's in those moments that I realize I wouldn't trade my life, my family, my Christmas, with anyone else. Because without the Twelve Days of Christmas my Christmas would not be complete.
Other things may change us, but we start and end with family.