There are many great Christmas memories, but the one that sticks out the most is my first Christmas in Knoxville, TN.
Before my dad established himself at his current employer, he moved around a bit until he found the right company. That meant by the time I moved to Knoxville at age 8, I had lived in Pittsburgh, Atlanta, and Cleveland... All my parents' family is from Western PA.
Anyway, there were family and friends visiting for our first Christmas night in Knoxville, so my Mom pulled out all the stops. The cocktails and wine were flowing and her food spread was cornucopias. Homemade port-wine cheese balls rolled in almonds, nut rolls, dinner rolls, green bean casserole, pineapple casserole, ham, candied yams, and various other dinner-time accouterments were arranged on one side of the table, then the drinks, then the other side, my favorite at the time, was the dessert side of the table.
Oh, man did I have a sweet tooth then. When I was 8, I really liked chocolate, peanut butter, nougat, creme brulee, custard, anything that was rich. I had a little to eat, wandered around the party, got bored, then decided I wanted some sweets. Well, my mom had set out plenty to choose from. I noticed a dessert that I hadn't seen before, little chocolate balls rolled in cocoa.
I grabbed a couple, and bit into one. It was so soft and creamy, like a truffle. The taste was more complex than chocolate alone and not nearly as sweet as I expected. Regardless, I really liked the chocolate balls. So I ate like, 8 or 10 of them.
About 10-15 minutes later, I really regretted eating so many chocolate balls. I started feeling a little light headed and sick, so I sat down. A moment later, I realized I was going to puke. To this day, I still don't believe I'm going to really throw up until it's way too late. You know that feeling you get five minutes before hand that you're gonna hurl, well, I fully deny that feeling until the last 15-30 seconds... I don't know why I just do.
After sitting down didn't help and the room started to spin, I got up and headed to the kitchen. I was 8, so I don't remember why I went to the kitchen, but here I am, standing on the linoleum, and...
HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRFFFFFFF!
Dark brown liquid spews out of my mouth and ****ing covers the kitchen floor with a puddle of what looked like something that came out of my other end. My mother rushed up to me and put two and two together.
"Did you eat those chocolate balls?"
"Yes... like, a lot."
"Oh God. Those were rum balls. I made them a little strong, too. How many did you eat?"
"Like, 8 or 9."
I don't remember much after that because I probably passed out drunk. Ahhhh the Holidays. Little did I know a few years later, I'd be spending the rest of my Christmases in a similar state.
Merry Chistmas All!
