Rituals It was a cold winter day in December when our parents got us all ready for the long trip to Grandma’s for the annual Christmas dinner. While Jake and I were wrapping ourselves with our newly knitted sweaters and jackets, mom and dad were getting the truck loaded with food and presents. “Why do we have to go to this stupid Christmas thing anyway? Its the same thing every year!” Jake complained. “It's not that great I know, but you have to do it or mom and dad will think we’re satanic!” I told him. “Well at least then we might can be left alone and get to ‘threaten’ them if they bother us!” “Or maybe we’ll just get more bull crap out of em’ a