Fake Christmas in the Smokies

Hello.  I'm Cari, and I'll be your tour guide through this blog post.


First, get comfy in that slice of van seat you've been given.  You'll be in it for the next 16 hours.  You will be surrounded by people who look like this:

And who will occupy themselves by doing things like this:

You will be forced to listen to "The Twilight Zone" audio dramas for the entire time, and if you're male, you will have to pee in a cup during rest stops, since you've lost your shoes somewhere in the van and there's no way anyone's letting you go into a gas station bathroom barefoot.

But when you get to the Smokies, you'll see things like this:

and you won't even have to leave the comfort of your parents' deck to do so.  No, seriously, that's the view from the backyard.  Totally worth having to shove Lego wheels between the toes of 4 year old boys to keep them happy during the car ride.

Then, you'll have a family Christmas party.  And there will be lots of good food and good people you haven't seen in a while.  But since you'll try to get candid shots without your subjects getting self-conscious, you'll have to take pictures without the flash, and at odd angles.

Then people will want to give your children presents.  Which turns your children into room-wrecking machines.  But cute room-wrecking machines.

And then, your best friend will drive six hours from Memphis to come see you.  And you'll  be stupid excited, and so will she, but her husband will glare at you like this, for dragging him along:

And he'll be thinking this:

Even though he'll deny it.  But the camera doesn't lie, does it Ben?

You will get to see a lot of children under one roof, and miss Memphis so badly it actually hurts.

But then the sun will set, and you'll be so overwhelmed by the beauty that you will forget everything else for a while.

Then you'll have fake Christmas with just your family, and you'll get to surprise your grandma by showing up all the way from Connecticut, even though she was told 740 times that you were coming.  

Then your spoiled kids will get even more presents, and they'll once again turn into cute room-wrecking machines.

And you'll crack up at what your brother wrote on the card for his niece and nephews' gift, because in real life, he's possibly the most articulate person you'll ever meet:

Finally, as it's time to pack up and load back into the van, since you only had 48 hours to spend with family, you'll realize two horrible, horrible truths:

1.  The wrong person was given the sound-deadening earphones

and

2. You didn't get a single picture of your dear mother that wouldn't immediately result in her cutting you out of the will should you post it on the internet.