This always makes me laugh:
All the Christmas traditions we follow are mainly inherited from MrsT's family, since I grew up with none.
When we married, though, way back in the dark ages, I wanted to add a tradition of my own - getting up early and going out for breakfast before opening gifts and all that.
1991 (our first Christmas away from family) through Christmas 1995, I was military, so we always ate on base at the chow hall, because you could bring your family in on Christmas, and from 1996 through 2003, we were in Minnesota and ate at various places on Christmas morning, from the casino around the corner, to the posh Sofitel in Bloomington (hands down the best Christmas breakfast I've ever had), to the legendary Mickey's diner (featured in the film Jingle All The Way).
2004, we'd moved to rural-ish Ohio, and the closest place available for breakfast at Christmas was Waffle House, about 30 minutes away.
Waffle House is traditionally packed to the rafters Christmas morning, so if you want a chance of getting in and out in less than four hours, you have to get there about 5:30AM.
I should point out...MrsT is
not a morning person.
2005: "Can't we stay home and just have cereal?"
So that means, starting in 2005, we've not gone out for breakfast on Christmas morning.
Last week, lo and behold, MrsT says, "I think we should get up early Christmas morning and go out to Waffle House for breakfast. We haven't done that in
ages!"
"Yeah, sure, I'd like that."
A few days ago, I reminded her that we're supposed to get up early Christmas morning and go out, and I got a
look in return.
Today, out of nowhere: "You know what we haven't had in a long time...cinnamon rolls! We should have cinnamon rolls Christmas morning!"
I knew it wouldn't last!
