Noel

The following story takes place many years ago when my brother and I were still fairly young and living at home. This was before we had a TV in the kitchen/dining room, which was most certainly on during dinner because we just HAD to watch….to watch…..you know, that show….well, I can’t for the life of me remember what it is that we HAD to watch. But I’m sure it was important.

Growing up, my mom was big on all of us eating dinner together whenever we could. It was nice: we’d sit down at the dining room table at 5:30pm and eat as a family. Free from the TV distraction that would come later, the four of us were left sitting around the table staring at each other as we ate.

I’m kidding. We talked. We did!

At some point during many of those meals, I would inevitably end up falling out of my chair and collapsing onto the floor in a heap of giggles. Most of the time I couldn’t be really sure what set me off. I would just get into these moods when the smallest, most random, normally non-funny thing would suddenly become hilarious to me. My family was used to this behavior of mine (“oh, there she goes again.”), and we would all usually end up laughing, me at who-knows-what and them at me. (Except for those times my mom and/or dad would be annoyed with me and demand that I return to my chair and finish my dinner. I never paid this much notice. I was too busy laughing.)

One December night a LONG time ago I got into one of those moods because I had looked at a cross-stitch picture hanging on a wall in our dining room and for some reason thought it was the funniest thing in the world. All the picture said was “noel.” But that one word was apparently enough. And this time, my brother joined me in my wacky world of hilarity, and there was no going back. To this day, all we need to say to each other is “noel” and we’ll both start giggling. And to this day, my mother still cannot figure out just what is so funny about that.

Yes, I realize this story doesn’t make any sense. That’s the whole idea. That’s why it’s fun.

This little game of my brother’s and mine has evolved to the point where we try to be the first to say it to each other at random times, with the loser left frustrated and annoyed. (Not really.) A couple of years ago I gave my brother a very special Christmas gift: an 8x10 framed picture of almost two dozen different “noels.” He was not amused.

Then one year ago, as I was walking down the aisle at his wedding, I mouthed the word as I caught his eye when I got to the front of the church. He was REALLY not amused then. And the whole thing was captured perfectly on his wedding video. Awesome.

Don’t get me wrong; he’s gotten me good over the years, too. But I consider those two attacks of mine some of the best in our little “Noel War.”

Merry Christmas, little bro! Oh, and by the way……

NOEL.