Hughes time they call it. It started when I was in 5th grade, I was always late to basketball practice because my mom was always running late. Everyone started to expect it by the time the season was over, and all the seasons after that. Hughes time didn’t just stop with me though. Like I said, my mom was always running late, but I do understand it's hard to be on time when you have four kids. I’d like to think punctuality was genetic in this family, because my brothers are rarely on time for anything, and I am constantly running out the door at the last second as well. My dad used to not understand how everyone was always late, until he caught the tardy flu too. 

Lucky for us, being late has never led to any consequences. That might be because we are early when it is really important, but I think it has something to do with the fact that we never take anything too seriously. 

It was Christmas Eve 2019, we were headed up to Appleton like we do every year, to go to church and then the big Christmas party at my grandma's house. It had been a rough morning as my brothers didn’t know what “dress nice” meant, and my dad was getting down to his last straw. I tried to remind everyone it was Christmas eve but no one listens to the thirteen year old. Of course we had to stop and get starbucks on the way (because how can we survive an hour and a half car ride without it?) so that pushed back our ETA even more. Next thing we knew, we were walking into church on the busiest day of the year two minutes before the service started. 

Needless to say the main area was already full, there was a seating area outside where we could watch the service, but that was full too. We didn’t know what to do until someone pointed us in the direction of another room. This one was dark and it was set up with stairs and a stage. There were chairs placed on the large stairs and a TV on the stage. It seemed as though the person who guided us here was telling us “this is where all the late people go.” So we sat down and watched church from a television…for about five minutes. 

“This is stupid” my dad says. 

“Yeah I don’t think I can watch this the whole time” my mom replies. 

Our family is biannual church goers. Every year on Christmas Eve and Easter. My parents decided if we missed one Christmas Eve church it wouldn’t be the end of the world, we just didn’t tell my grandma. 

Just like that we got up and walked out of the church ten minutes into the service. 

“What should we do while we wait?” my brother Brett asks. 

“I’m kind of hungry,” my brother Tyler says. 

“I guess we could go get lunch” my mom tells us. 

So we drove. To this little fast food restaurant that I have only ever seen in Appleton. It's called Tom's Drive In, and we love it because my grandpa's name is Tom. When we get there we order a plethora of greasy food. That would be considered offensive to my grandma if she knew this is what we were eating for Christmas Eve lunch instead of sitting at church. We all sat around a table and had a family lunch consisting of french fries, cheese curds, burgers, and ice cream. 

It was the best meal I had in a long time. 

Not because the cheese curds were exceptionally cheesy, or the french fries were especially crunchy, or even because the ice cream was covered in rainbow sprinkles. It was christmas eve, and even though we weren’t at church like usual, I was with my family. We were making jokes, and laughing, and we were together. I wasn’t fighting with my brothers, we weren’t stressed running late, we had full bellies, and made the best of our Christmas Eve. Dare I say, it might’ve even been more fun than church. 

Every year since then we have drove to appleton, been late to church (we actually stay the whole time though), then after church of course, we go to Tom's Drive In and get french fries and cheese curds and ice cream as an appetizer before heading to my grandmas house for the big party. 

This tradition my family has created is one of many silly things we have come up with. Pocket cookies, road trips, pizza on Saturdays, movie quotes, and some others that I cannot name, are all things only we know. Memories only we share and jokes only we laugh at. And I love it, I love our togetherness, and I am grateful Hughes time helped us out that day. 

 It was the best Christmas Eve I ever had.