Let me tell you the tale of the greatest Christmas game there ever was. Its origins unknown, like many of my families curiosities, this one possibly came from some obscure place, like the Footrot Flat comics that were popular in my family, or the funny tiki man whose wooden penis pops out when you lift him up (a children’s favourite), Or the fact that the family dog’s name was Bitch (that’s right, just imagine a bunch of Aussie kids calling out Bitch on each visit to Nanna’s house). The Christmas game has been an odd game that I have not seen replicated in other families. There may be a reason for that. On first look, it seems like a simple card game, it is only as the game progresses do the claws come out. It is often misunderstood, but one thing is certain. It is the game that brings my family together, but with the mantra that it may be every man for himself.
What you’ll need:
An area of carpeted/or smooth floor to play on
2 packs of playing cards (no jokers)
3 x massive piles of gifts (3 x 25-35 or so) (for three games)
This is for about 10-15 participants
It starts out all innocent-like. My grandfather had one pack of cards, while the other pack was dealt out to the players, adults and children alike. We start playing this game from when we are toddlers. The 30 or so presents are piled randomly in the middle of the floor, emptied from a plastic laundry basket from the ’80s. Grandpa starts by calling out the first card. “The ace of hearts”. “Was that the 8 of hearts?” somebody predictably chimes in. Grandpa grumpily says “I said the ace of hearts”. Somebody replies “I’ve got it” They throw the card in the middle and go about selecting a gift. Go tiny? Go big? Nobody but the gift wrappers (the mums) know what is in there. From past experience, everyone knows there will be something reasonably cool/fun in there, but we also know that most of it will be things that mum doesn’t want, and is trying to get rid of to another household. Previous years have included an expired condom from 1967, motel room shampoos and conditioners, note pads, pens, pencils, calendars, a tin of potatoes, who knows what else. People assess what present to go for, another card is read, another present is chosen until suddenly there are no more presents left in the middle.
Now is when the fun begins. Its time to get ruthless and steal those presents from other peoples stacks. And for those lucky people still with most of their cards they can hone in on the present they most want. Even though they still don’t know what it is. Just imagine your loving Aunties card is called, she gazes around at the piles in front of each player and decides that little Jarrods got a very interesting gift in front of him, He sees her eye it off, she scrambles across the now-empty centre and grabs that present from his pile. Jarrod is 4. It’s his second year playing the game, he’s not impressed but having played the game last year, he knows how it works. Sound cruel yet? This continues like this for some time. Presents being stolen, and stolen back. One item always becomes the target prey, but only one person will end up with it. There are often pleas by immediate family members to gang up on another family grouping. And when a parent steals a present from their own child, it is then that you know that truly there are no loyalties in this game, it really is every person for themself. There is fun jeering, “Take one from George” and diversionary tactics, “John’s got a shiny looking gift”, sometimes it works, mostly it doesn’t, and then at the end there are no cards left and it is time to unwrap.
Everyone looks to see what the gift they had their eyes on is when unwrapped. One time it was a large box with a half-used diary in it, other years, one of Nanna’s crystal bowls. And then we all open ours, 2 to 3 gifts each usually, we’re not complete scrooges, we do leave everyone with at least two gifts. We then trade gifts we don’t want with others, because Uncle Mike never wants the pack of flower print hankies. We repeat the game two more times that day, becuase we enjoy it that much. Despite appearances, this is not a selfish game. It is a game of teasing, dramatics, faked offence, faked defence, silliness and bonding. Year after year we would all return at Christmas and play this game, no matter what age, we all wanted to play it.
I’m not home for Christmas often now, and I don’t know if it is played anymore. Our ‘caller’, my grandfather passed away and I don’t know if it would be the same anymore without him. This Summer I was reminded of how much I missed the game and how important a part of my childhood it was. My eldest child remembers the game fondly like I did, and they’d like to bring it back. I’m hoping we can revive it again, that a new group of kids and adults will ‘get it’. I’ll let you know how it goes.