The Unwritten Rules of Christmas in Lubbock

There are no official rules for Christmas in Lubbock. No handbook. No pamphlet. But if you’re like me, you know exactly how it’s going to go the second you pull into the driveway and see which cars are already parked crooked in the grass.

Rule #1: There will be a drunk uncle

Not tipsy. Not “having a little holiday cheer.” Drunk. Loud. Possibly emotional. Definitely opinionated. He’ll start the day harmless enough, maybe cracking jokes or offering unsolicited life advice he hasn’t personally followed since 1987. By mid-afternoon, he’s either telling the same story for the fourth time or confidently explaining politics, finances, and how you should be living your life, despite his own life being a loosely held together Pinterest board of bad decisions. Just be kind. He isn't going to be around much longer. I sadly know this from experience. (RIP, Uncle Ja.)

Rule #2: Christmas attire is a trap.

You will spend way too long wondering what the hell to wear. Is this a “nice top” Christmas or a “don’t judge me, I’m in leggings” Christmas? Will there be photos? Will someone post them? You’ll settle on something safe, only to show up and realize your sisters are in pajamas, someone’s barefoot, and somehow you are the one overdressed. Bonus points if the drunk uncle is wearing something absolutely unhinged, like a dress, and acting like you’re the weird one.

Rule #3: Gifts stop after age 15, and no one warns you.

One year, the tree is full. The next year, you’re just… watching. Congratulations, you’ve aged out. You’ll get maybe a candle, some socks, or a vague “we didn’t know what to get you.” Meanwhile, you’re expected to act thrilled about a $12 kitchen gadget you did not ask for. This is also when you’re expected to start buying gifts for everyone else, despite still being broke. Don't give in. They couldn't spot you $20 for groceries without giving you a spiel about your life being a pile of crud. You don't owe them a giftcard to Target, a grill, or even a visit, for that matter. In fact, maybe just sit Christmas out...the more I think about it, the less merry I feel...

Rule #4: The advice will be terrible and unavoidable.

You didn’t ask, but you’re getting it anyway. Relationship advice from someone on their third marriage. Career advice from someone who hates their job. Financial advice from someone who borrowed money from you last year. Smile. Nod. Take another bite of whatever casserole is aggressively mid. Or, as mentioned above, simply opt the hell out. It sounds more appealing with every thought.

Rule #5: You are not allowed to leave early without guilt.

Even if you’re exhausted. Even if your social battery died two hours ago. Even if the drunk uncle has started repeating himself. Leaving early means answering at least six questions and promising you’ll “come by later,” which you will not do.

And finally, Rule #6: You will complain about it and probably (maybe) still show up next year.

Because as chaotic and ridiculous as a Lubbock Christmas can be, it’s familiar. It’s loud. It’s awkward. It’s family. And somehow, even with all the bad advice, questionable outfits, and unhinged uncles, it still feels like home.

Ugh. Had to tie this together in some kind of heartwarming way. Everyone is welcome. I'm gonna go puke. Merry Christmas, and keep scrolling for more silly stuff in the galleries below...