AMBIGUOUSLY RELATED

Yesterday the Cherry extended family celebrated Christmas.  There are usually 15-20 people depending upon whether any of my nieces bring a date to the festivities.  We typically have brunchish foods no matter what time of the day we celebrate it and yesterday was no exception at 4 p.m.  Six pounds of bacon were consumed celebrating the birth of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and all of us will no doubt meet Him sooner than later as a result of six pounds of bacon!  We don't give gifts either, but have a rousing game of grab bag with everyone bringing a $5 gift and then stealing it away from each other during the game.  Someone actually included two boxes of off brand macaroni and cheese in their gift!  There was some general hooting and hollering going on during the game.  And, my one niece's husband, the newest member of the family, kept us all in line during the game, with what I referred to him as, "The Olympic Games Rules & Regulations for Grab Bag", which no doubt had been sanctioned by the Olympic Committee or a sub-committee thereof:)  Sitting on the fireplace hearth next to my oldest sister conversation included of all things, tether ball.  Why, I don't know!  I commented to her that I never understood tether ball, it seemed like chaos on a string.  She couldn't stop laughing and I ran for paper to write the phrase down.  I know there are general rules for winning a rigorous game of tether ball, but no one seemed quite able to know them in detail other than to pummel your opponent hard while wrapping the chaos on a string around the pole without letting the other player have a chance to touch a moving ball on a string.  Brilliant.  It is a riveting game indeed.  If you have seen the movie, "Napoleon Dynamite" and the closing scene between Napoleon and his girlfriend playing tether ball, you will know it to be a spectator favorite while being a taxing sport for only the extremely skilled.  From there we covered cleavage which is a popular topic among three sisters, a mother and 6 nieces.  My youngest nieces are 18 years old, seniors in high school.  I, of the three of us sisters, shall I say, am lacking the most in all things cleavage related.  Because of that, my nieces, during their blossoming years, frequently would comment that they were gaining on me in the bosom arena.  Yesterday, during what should have been quiet moments of reflection of what the birth of Christ really means, it was declared by the smallest busted niece that she has now surpassed me in breast size.  I think the comment was actually, "Aunt Lynn, look at my boobs," my youngest 18 year old niece said to me, "they are bigger than yours now!"   I looked at her, with pride that only an aunt can hold for her niece that she loves dearly ily, and said, with a twinkle in my eye, "Well honey, I can see that very clearly.  Congratulations!  Good job!".  We all laughed which led my sister sitting by me to say there is some word that Hollywood uses for chest/cleavage.  She couldn't remember it so we googled it off her fancy new phone.  The word was decolletage, which refers to the area of chest above and connecting to a low cut top.  My brother-in-law yelled out, "That's what we men call pre-chest!".  I couldn't stop laughing as I looked at my brother-in-law and said, "What if you don't have a chest!".  He smiled and confidently said, "Well, Lynn then you have a pre-chest to the pre-chest!".   Oh Jesus was indeed at our Christmas.  He loves a celebration.