For the family? Maybe - if by family you mean this horrifyingly dysfunctional assemblage, gathered in a Tableau of Terror. It's a world in which armless Thalidomom tries with every atom of her being to act as if there is nothing amiss with her sadistic husband's latest gift, even as their son - the Spawn of Satan - shrieks in banshee abandon at her. Meanwhile, little Susie - a child of almost LucieArnazian unattractiveness - huddles in dread beneath the wrapping paper, counting the moments until she can once again crawl back to her "safe place" behind the basement stairs.
That's the kind of family this is a Singer Christmas for.