Insane In The Membrane

Hi.

Welcome to the Wonderful World of Amy.

Come on in, sit down, and I'll tell you a little story.

Once upon a time, Amy was sitting around on Christmas Eve, blogging while she waited for her insane family to arrive for dinner. Not "Holy crap, she's chasing squirrels with a pair of kitchen scissors while singing Cotton-Eyed Joe!" insane, but the good kind that makes life interesting, like "Hey, look, Grandma's lifting her skirt again."  Because stuff like that happened in Amy's family.

Amy's crazy family consisted of Amy, the princess of crazy:

Amy's mom, the queen of insanity.

Amy's dad, a giant cartoon character.

Amy's grandma, who invented crazy.

Amy's brother, who was crazy even though he didn't want to admit it.

And Amy's nephew, the crazy toddler who ate brains.

So, anyways, Amy was waiting around for this group of nuthouse rejects to show up so she could chow down. It was an annual tradition, you know. Every year, since before her mother was born (and thusly before dinosaurs roamed the Earth), the entire clan would have a nice Swedish feast on Christmas Eve, with more kinds of bread than you could shake a breadstick at. After everyone had been sufficiently stuffed with cheap Swedish caviar and rotten fish, the dishes were washed in the traditional way, since apparently automatic dishwashers are illegal in Sweden. Then, everyone would gather around the Christmas shrub, which had been set on a table to look larger, while one male member of the family (different every year) ran out to "get batteries," and conveniently miss the visit from Santa Claus, who always seems to be wearing the same brand of cologne as the missing relative. Then, the child slave labor ensued, as the tots were forced to dole out the presents to their respective receivers while they ate rice pudding and sipped Swedish coffee. After the slave labor, the children were tortured, as everyone took turns unwrapping their presents while the children peeled the skin off of their arms in eager anticipation, waiting to unwrap their next gift (which is, if they're lucky, a 10-pack of underwear, which grandma only seemed to give when brother's girlfriend was visiting). After visits from friends and neighbors, the children were then dragged off to midnight mass, so they could endure infinite choruses of Feliz Navidad and snore through the sermon.

All in all, our story is coming to a close. See, after Amy remembered all of these fun details, she decided that she should stop blogging and prepare for the incoming tornado that was Christmas Eve with her family with a thorough dousing of Holy Water.