My family’s tradition is to spend Christmas Eve at my maternal grandmother’s house in Bossier City, LA.
In case you aren’t aware, altogether, there are 11 grandchildren (and one on the way!). We range in age from 20 to 7, with the majority being older than 11. That means we all grew up together, and were kids together, and have basically done the Christmas thing together. We used to get an enormous amount of toys–now we all get practical gifts (because we’re basically adults). Only the two youngest (and the bun in the oven) really get to have the full-out Christmas spectacular anymore.
Regardless, it’s a good day. Only the rolls got burned.
The real adventure started when my sister and I left the house to go home. We decided to stop by Wal-Mart, but it closed at 6pm. Then we got dinner. Both of these things took a while because of traffic.
Then my sister decided that she wanted to drive down 79 all the way. Usually we take 220 to I-20 and then 79.
So we turned on the road marked 79. And kept driving. Eventually to the ghetto.
Then we drove around for an hour or so, trying to stay on 79. Problem is, the roads in Shreveport aren’t always easy to follow. For instance, a street may suddenly stop and then reappear somewhere else. We lost 79 somewhere, but managed to find several streets that my sister was familiar with (since she goes to school in Shreveport).
Then we eventually found 79. And proceeded to take the long way home.
A plus? Greenwood has pretty street Christmas lights. But overall, we both decided it was better to stick to I-20.
