Hej tomtegubbar!

Christmas has always been my favorite time of year. America had it best, I was sure. We got the Macy's Day Parade to kick us off and we have Bing Crosby and lights and Buddy the Elf. What more could a person want, need, or dream up? Ha. If only you knew the glory that is Swedish Christmas drinking songs.

Swedes celebrate Christmas on Christmas Eve, so yesterday I was seated next to Linnea's uncle Anders, who works in the Swedish music business. I knew we would be friends when he told me that his friend wrote songs for Taylor Swift, and that he thought Lady Gaga was mentally insane. I knew we would be best friends when he insisted on singing about a Christmas Elf repeatedly every time anyone drank their Schnapps. Take a swing at this, after a few drinks, and try to tell me it is not the best thing you have ever heard of:

"Hej tomtegubbar slå i glasen och låt oss lustiga vara!"

I don't particularly care for Schnapps; everything in Sweden tastes like black licorice which is about enough to force me to introduce them to cherry flavored cough syrup as a happy relief. But as Linnea's cousin Sabina said "You don't like Schnapps, you just do it because it's tradition. But a tradition that we just have all year.... Spring, Summer, Christmas, you know. So really more of a habit that we call a tradition."

Each year Santa arrives on Christmas Eve with a gift for each person in the family. This year he came in the form of six Schnapps red Anders, and to my surprise and relief Santa brought me the CD Anders puts out each year which is titled Absolute Hits. And yes, they did get a law suit filed against them by Absolute Vodka over the name, but turns out Absolute didn't copyrite it in the music business so tricky Anders won. Being taken to Linnea's relatives was one of those "Hi, I am the American you don't know but are being forced to have in your home on one of the most personal days of the year" moments. Nearly as awkward as if I showed up at the hospital the day after a stranger had a baby and said "Oh, hello, just thought I'd come and visit!"

I managed to escape the day without crying over how nice they all were (I have a tendency to cry when people are really nice to me, ie: over a free burrito at Chipotle) and was reassured that my family is only partially insane when Anders/Santa gave their dog a present. At least there is one other family I know of that wraps their pet's gifts and receives mass amounts of joy watching them struggle to open it. I feel like their dog was at a particular disadvantage, however, because he is an American dog and apparently doesn't "speak" Swedish according to Sabina and happens to be blind in one eye. I've experienced one half of that, and found it equally as easy to open my gift, but you never know what being half way blind will do to you.... not to mention having paws and a ridiculous haircut.

Today, other than forcing my boyfriend Sigge the cat to snuggle with me, I can say that I did drag myself out of bed and onto a sledding hill. Swedish children aren't the brightest of the bunch and seem to think that walking directly up the middle of the slope is the wisest idea they've imagined. I would have found "Swedish Sledding Bowling with Swedish Children" to be very enjoyable, but didn't think that plowing through a bunch of six year olds would have really shown Sweden how grateful I am to be here.

Linnea's family has been discussing going to church tomorrow; Linnea pointed out that they never go to church except on Christmas, to which Kristofer responded that they haven't even gone on Christmas in five years. So I, in my obviously devoted Catholic manner, am "evangelizing" the family, right? Bengt-Goran pointed out that if they were to go to church tomorrow, which would be twice in one week thus surpassing any record of their lifetime, they would have to Google Maps the church, because they don't even know where it is.

That, my dear Lord, is devotion. Oh, and happy birthday, Baby Jesus :) and thanks for the Schnapps Santa and for the snow.

Amen.