On the SixthPost of Christmas…

🎄 The Party 🎄

If I’m being completely honest—and I usually am—this party is the highlight of my year.

Not Christmas Day.
Not the presents.
Not even the tree.

It’s this night.

Somewhere around 2010 (give or take a year, memory, or gumbo spill), we accidentally started a tradition. A Christmas party. Potluck-style. Gumbo on the stove. Cheap gifts. Friends packed into a house that was never designed for this many people… and yet somehow always works.

Every year, it comes back around and reminds me why I love this season so much. It’s loud. It’s messy. It’s a little chaotic. And it’s full of people I genuinely want to be around.

There’s something deeply comforting about knowing the rhythm of the night:
The gumbo bubbling.
People trickling in late (as they should).
The gift exchange that walks the fine line between “this is hilarious” and “why does this exist.”
Someone discovering Santa Claus Conquers the Martians for the very first time.
Someone else insisting it’s an essential Christmas tradition.
Both are correct.

It’s a night where nobody’s trying too hard, nobody’s impressed by fancy things, and everyone shows up as they are—wearing ugly sweaters, too-small t-shirts, or whatever Christmas chaos they could survive South Louisiana weather in.

I love this party because it’s not perfect.
I love it because it’s familiar.
I love it because for a few hours, life slows down just enough for laughter, stories, and shared nonsense.

So yes—this post is about The Party.
The potluck.
The gifts.
The movie.
The people.

And mostly, the reminder that Christmas doesn’t really start for me until the house is full and the noise level hits just the right pitch.

If you’ve ever been to this party, you know exactly what I mean.
If you haven’t… well, perhaps we’ll see you soon.