I could bore you all with their time at Chandler's office Christmas party, but I didn't want to bore myself. So we are going to assume all went well and we are going to continue this shenanigans...

Merry Christmas!

The first one went down easy, the second one nice and smooth, but by the third my head was spinning around and that's when I got the clue. Someone spiked the eggnog, but I'm not sure who. I have suspicions of Dan when I saw him walking around with a bottle in his hand; but then again, D.R. was having fun by the bar. Who knows, it could have been Randy who was sporting a flask of brandy all night. I don't know for certain how it happened or who's to blame, but someone at that party should be ashamed.

I wouldn't say I'm drunk. No. Borderline, yes, but not drunk. I'm experiencing the side effects of tipsy and hungover as I find my way back to my vehicle.

"Left." She says soothingly right after I try to turn right and end up running into her.

Okay, maybe I'm a little drunk.

My head is pounding as Monica navigates me back towards the car.

I'm not one to get hammered at parties, I'm also not one to drink eggnog, but here we are.

"Keys?" She questions once we approach the car.

I search my jacket pockets in hope that the room will stop spinning. "You should have never left me alone with Doug."

She laughs, but in a hurtful way "I should have never suggested a drink." She opens my coat before reaching in my hidden pocket and pulling out the keys. "How are you suppose to help me tonight, now?"

"Mon, I'm just tipsy, I can still manage to dress up as Santa and eat cookies." I say, with only a slight slur to my words.

She opens the passenger side and I slowly crawl in. There is a water in the cup holder that I've never been more excited to see.

I can't remember the last time I had induced alcohol to the point where I didn't appear as myself. For starters, Monica and I don't go out very often, and when we do, we are usually accompanied by Hansel and Gretel. Most nights I'm someone else, whether that be a fireman rescuing a damsel in distress or Tarzan swinging from vine to vine in hope to lose Godzilla behind me, or even superman using my x-ray vision to see if there are brownies in the oven. But when my imagination is put to rest, I get a chance to bring out my romantic side and charm my other half.

"Drink up." Monica comments as she jumps into the drivers seat and finds me cuddling a disposable water bottle. "I'm going to stop by Target and quickly run in." She informs me as she puts on some driving gloves before gripping the ice cold stirring wheel. "You just stay here and try to find your sober state, again."

I'm sure I'll be fine in an hour. The atmosphere has already stopped spinning; but that may be because I'm finally still.

Monica reaches to turn on the radio and the soft music of Michael Buble fill the speakers.

Christmas in the Bing household is pretty normal. We do the traditional baking of cookies, the Night Before Christmas bedtime story, matching pajamas and of course, presents. Loads and loads of presents!

But when someone asks me what Christmas means to me, I don't know how to respond. What does it mean? As a slow smile drifts to my lips, I think back on all my past Christmas'. I think about the memories and the sights, the sounds and the smells. I remember back on the absolute joy of being surrounded by family and friends.

And most of all the delight I get when watching the fire crackle and spark before sputtering into life. Its lambent light stole away the burglar-black shadows that dance on the wall. Forks of rainbow-orange flame feed hungrily at the chimney as they climb higher and higher...

The door slams and I hear Monica's boots crunching through the powdered snow outside. They detonate like muffled grenades every time they hit the ground.

I watch as a swag-bellied Santa blocks the entrance waiting for distressed shoppers to drop in their change. He rings his silver bell and sings his best version of Jingle Bells that he can offer despite the bitter cold. This whiskey-nosed and chipmunk-cheeked character is a sorcerer of a special sort. He is indeed a joy to the world and the children's happiness proved it.

I looked up at the displayed Christmas tree in the town-hall. It flashes and flickers with its dazzling lights. An angel is perched on the top, glittering with a mint-silver luster.

As I recline back in my chair, my head rest against the icy window for just a moment before I bring up my arm to block it from the freezing glass.

This Christmas is going to be a record breaking low with a wind chill of -22. For a while we debated if we should take the kids out in this weather. Any bare skin that is exposed to the freezing air for longer than five minutes can lead to frostbite. It'll feel as if pins and needles were entering your body.

When I went on a ski trip to Colorado with a few buddies of mine back in college we had the same frostbite warning. One of the guys I went with ended up with frostbite on his nose the first day on the slopes. It's not something to joke about; for a long time I didn't take it seriously. The first morning we arrived I jogged out to my jeep in only shorts and a t-shirt to grab my bag. I felt the same little daggers peeling through my legs and I was outside under 60 seconds. Ever since then, I stayed in doors during any sort of Polar Vertex this part of the country goes through during the season.

And now with the kids I'm even more-

"I know, we should be home in 20 minutes..." Monica jumps back in the car, urgent to get out of the wind. "Yeah, don't worry about it...Okay," She glances in my direction and I'm assuming I was just added to their conversation. "Not until the 3rd." Yep, now I'm lost. "Okay...okay...yeah...alright, bye bye." Her phone leaves her ear so she can press end. "The kids are still up." She announces and tosses the gift bags that she just purchased in the back seat.

Sighing, she looks back at me. "Are you feeling any less drunk?" She asks, hopeful.

"Mon, I'm fine..." Pausing, I add a fact "I didn't slur any of those words, did I?" It's a little over an hour since I had my last shot of rum, and the water is already starting to help.

She cringes, doubting the fact that I'm already sober. "There's a pack of crackers in my purse." She digs them out of her bag and hands them to me "Just...eat those, and...keep drinking the water." Her purse gets flung back with the bags as I begin to rip open the small package. Putting the car in reverse, she eases her way back on the street.

One by one the bright rays quickly shine through the car, making their way across my body as we drive through town. Christmas reefs, hung by the county's fire department, hang tightly to each light-post. Their red bows blow delicately in the wind; causing the snow to fall swiftly from each needle. Every building on the street is lit up to be welcoming in the dark. Last minute shoppers hurry from store to store, desperate to get that perfect gift for their loved one.

Christmas comes just once a year, full of laughter, cheer and kisses from the same aunt no one wants a gift from. Children play for hours in the snow; their cheeks turning rosy pink as they give their hat to their imaginary ice sculpture. They slowly lose their gloves next, followed by their scarf.

Finishing the last cracker in the package, we pull up to the house and sit there for just a moment. Through the window you can see our tree shinning in the corner. The lights are dimmed as two children and a grandmother curl up on the couch watching A Wonderful Life. A blanket is strewn over the three of them; the domino effect causing the kids to be leaned delicately against the Nana.

Suddenly, I've realized we should rearrange the furniture to keep strangers from looking in on our family.

"Hey." I hadn't noticed her looking at me until she said something. Tearing my eyes away from my family, I look over at the most perfect woman. "I love you..." She breaths out "So much." Her eyes close for a brief second before reopening. Looking me up and down she changes her mood from soft and loving to sex and hungry. "What do you say, we get in there, say goodbye to my mom, put the kids to bed and start our Christmas?" She grins

And suddenly, I'm sober again.

Without responding, I open the car door and quickly make my way to the other side. "My lady." I open her door and reach for her hand, but before we take a step towards the house, I slam the door shut and gently push her up against the car. Before I could make my move, I misplace my footing and slip on a patch of ice. My ass hits the pavement hard and I'm lucky enough not to bang my head.

Monica gasps, "Oh, honey!" Her voice is high and I know she is fighting the urge to laugh.

"I'm fine...perfect." I mutter, trying my best to get back on my feet. Rolling over onto my stomach, my hands slip from under me. Realizing, I'm not on the best ground to get back up, I slowly make my way into the grass where I know there is no ice.

I feel Monica's hands brush across my butt as she tries her best to get the snow off my clothes. "You were doing so well, too." She comments, the laugh finally escaping her throat.

"I was working on making my move and then..." With a huff, I stand back up "...stupid winter." Everything I said before about Christmas being magical and beautiful...well, I take it all back. The snow sucks.

I grab a hold of Monica while we finish our walk up to the house.

The minute I open the door the aroma hits me. I can hear the fire crackling before I see it and the soft sounds of the T.V. tell me the kids fell asleep on the couch. I take our coats and hang them up, quietly thanking Judy for coming out in this weather before reaching down to scoop up Jack.

His arms wrap around my neck as I support his bottom. His head nuzzles comfortably in the crock of my neck as I carry him slowly up the stairs and down the hall.

It wasn't until I quietly cracked his bedroom door that I heard the front door downstairs seal tightly shut. Before I even reach the bottom step Monica had Erica in her arms. Pausing in front of me, I kiss my little girl on the forehead. Carefully, I follow my wife back upstairs; ready to grab the worn down bunny that is hanging loosely from Erica's limp hand. She is getting so big and I dread the day she no longer needs her daddy. Before I know it she'll be married with her own kids celebrating Christmas at her own house. Her imagination of Santa Claus will be run dry by then as she creates her own figurative image of the character for her little girl.

However, until I see the light of that day, I'll continue to put on the Santa suit and leave a dent in the cookies they lay out for him.

Reaching high above the clothes in our closet I pull down a box marked Business Suit. Setting it on the bed I pull the flaps open and begin the transformation.

Undoing my tie from the party, I lay it over my dresser, then comes my shirt and soon my pants. Standing in my drawers, I freeze my balls off as I quickly put on Santa's famous red suit. The cushioned belly is attached securely to the coat as I struggle to Velcro it together. The first time I put this suit on was for Ben eight years ago. I remember the way his eyes lit up when he saw me burst through the door. It's something I loved doing, and the fact that I created such joy for one little kid was kind of special, too. Not to mention the little present I got afterwards...

"Hey you."

In the middle of placing the finishing touch on my outfit, I turn around to find Monica leaned up against the door frame with her arms crossed tiredly over one another.

"Hey yourself." I smirk, slipping on my boots "Down?"

"Out like a light." She reports.

Pulling on my boots, I flip the ball at the end of my hat to the back and stand up. Grinning from ear to ear, Monica turns out of the doorway and we make our way back downstairs to the empty tree. Every parent has their secret hiding spot for Santa's gifts; some stash them under their bed, others in the closet, as for us, we hide them in the shed.

"I'll start grabbing them if you want to pour the milk?" I whisper, heading straight for the back door. The cold air doesn't seem as bad with this thick suit on. In fact, it feels kind of nice. My boots make perfect foot prints in the snow straight into the shed. Opening the doors I reveal the mother load. Some gifts are wrapped, others are not. But before I can step even three feet in, two bikes sit in my way. The flames are painted delicately on the side of one while the other sports pink and white tassels from its handlebars.

There are two different kind of people in the world during the holiday season. There are the ones that put everything they want into their cart on Amazon and tells their parents to checkout, then there are the ones that don't even bother giving lists because they want to be surprised. Oh, they will be surprised when they receive that ugly broach from grandma during the Christmas gathering.

When I was younger I use to get a different list to everyone I knew; the relatives, the guy at the deli, even my old pal Frankie on the subway that I rode every Tuesday night to get away from my parents arguing.

But as I got older, my list became shorter, the tinker toys I once wanted as a child grew more expensive. I could see everything start to change; the joy of Christmas morning, the fun I had with my cousins as we showed off our latest prize, even my mood was different during this season.

Yet, when my friends came into my life I had a new meaning for Christmas. It was no longer all about the gifts, it was - and as cheesy as this might sound - it was about the love. Then those friends became family, and that family became my most prized possession.

And suddenly, when someone asked what Christmas meant to me, I knew what to say.

Christmas is everything.

AN: Well there you have it! I finished this just minutes ago so it might be rushed a little at the end.

The song in the beginning is:

Who Spiked the Eggnog; By: Straight No Chasers

I really recommend giving it a listen!

I hope everyone has a spectacular Christmas and you remember the true meaning behind the holiday!