On every holiday, we get a new view of the same scene: mom cleaning in a frantic, angry fashion while she screams and swears at us to "pitch in" while she complains about previous holidays. Sometimes she'll mention how ungrateful we are or (my favorite) how much better other kids are. She will usually name 1 or 2 specific things that we did that she takes issue with. In that way, we can think of this as the Anti-Christ-mas.
"Angry Cleaning", as my brother and I call it, isn't limited to holidays - it happens about 8 times per year - but the holidays always feature an unusual amount of anger and resentment toward the kids.
Probably about 1 out of every 2 or 3 holidays she will bring up her childhood, with or without a comparison to us kids - either way, the implied meaning is that we have so much more than she did and we are ungrateful. These little history lessons often conflict with one another, but you run into the post-modern Tim O'Brien thing where to tell the truth requires lying or exaggeration.
What does my dad do during this? He kind of keeps his head down and doesn't say much. He'll clean in his awkward, uncoordinated way (he'll bang into corners and molding while vacuuming in a way that almost suggests he's doing it on purpose).
My mom's displaced anger will eventually begin to turn inward, on herself, and she'll begin complaining and feeling sorry for herself. This year she feels sorry for herself for getting a dog, a dog that pees and poops all over the house, yet she was the one who wanted to get the dog, a dog that she doesn't even think of feeding or walking or taking care of.
This year's Christmas Angry Cleaning was unusual, since my brother and I had actually cleaned yesterday, so it was anger without as much cleaning. It was mostly tidying up rooms by throwing things on the ground (if you want to make a point to someone, throw their jacket and Harper's magazine on the ground!).
Some families go to church on Christmas Eve or Christmas. Some go to a Chinese restaurant, because they are Jewish. We watch and listen to my mother, yelling at who-knows-what for hours on end (sometimes she cranks Christmas songs on the radio) throwing things on the ground and announcing her personal "naughty" list, letting the joys of the holiday season unfold themselves in front of us.
