When he came for Christmas, my dad, brother and aunt thought that it would be a really good idea to try and keep up with him.
As a result, by the time we got to midnight mass, my brother was trashed and had become an intoxicated, delirious mess.
His fall into the church managed to produce more than several judgemental and disapproving looks from the congregation.
His attempts to hold his candle were abysmal. The poor candle was weaving and swaying around like the egg in an egg and spoon race.
At the same time, a drunk guy to match my brother in his inebriated state arrived, with a Santa hat complete with a bell on the end.
The normally peaceful and tranquil service was interrupted by the constant bell chiming as every time this man moved (which was a lot) the bell sang out.
When the service was over we managed to lose my brother who thought that exploring the graveyard was an excellent occupation.
Needless to say, Christmas Day was slightly subdued that year with several members of my family nursing the hangovers from hell.