Okay, Who Brought The Handcuffs?

Last weekend, we travelled back to NH for my family's annual Christmas gathering. My Grammy has 4 kids, including my dad, and all of those kids have 20 kids (including my brother and me), and all of those kids have 17 kids (so far!). It's a little bit chaotic, even without everyone attending, but my grandmother loves to have her family together.

Part of the tradition is a Yankee Swap for the adults. My family is...loud, to say the least, and the swap can get a bit rowdy. Popular gifts this year were a digital keychain frame, a copy of Dark Knight, and, as always, alcohol and scratch tickets. There was one gift under the tree that puzzled everyone: a box containing a kazoo, a harmonica, a rubber chicken, and a pair of handcuffs.

Of course, the immediate reaction was a lot of jokes (choking the chicken, yadda yadda yadda). Pretty funny, until my mom stuck my poor grandmother with the gift (it's definitely a take-no-prisoners kind of swap). Grammy turned the box over to the older great grandkids (who promptly started cuffing each other to various chairs and tables), and was left with no gift. Kind of a bummer.

Shortly after, speculation started. Who brought the handcuffs? Of course, all eyes turned to my jokester cousin Todd, who immediately denied involvement. No one stepped up to claim responsibility. Hmmm.

Not long after the swap, my three year old reached the peak of his sugared up, cracked out frenzy (gingerbread decorating had quickly degenerated into frosting and candy snarfing by the younger great-grandkids). Looking around at the little girls in their beautiful Christmas dresses screaming and tackling each other, my husband and I decided to take our leave. You know it's time to go when there's only one kid in the room NOT bouncing off the walls, and that's cause he's handcuffed to a chair.

After we left, the speculation about the handcuffs continued, which is understandable. What's not understandable is that my family decided that my husband and I have a "funky sense of humor", and determined that we brought the handcuffs. Huh? Now, we do have a funky sense of humor, but please! I can read a room!

After many vehement denials, and 2 days of mystery, my name was cleared when the oldest of the great grandkids stepped up and claimed responsibility. He's 11, and this year was his first time participating in the grown-up swap. Aha!

I am vindicated.