A bit later, Caroline and Albert give their kids the bracelet they designed. Lauren tears up and sniffles that Albie and Christopher aren't emotional enough. Quite the contrary, it seems like she's a raw nerve this season, no?
The next day, Christmas has arrived! Chris shoots home video of the kids surveying their haul. And man is it a haul. I've never seen so many presents for a Brat, an eight-year-old, and a virtually non-cognizant one-year-old. The big exception to the onslaught of presents is Jacqueline, who is sad that Bratshley didn't get her anything. Bratshley justifies her lack of gift-giving on the money she spent on her car. She mumbles, "I know I probably should have gotten them something, but... whatever," then giggles. It's that total lame-ass apathy that gets me. I'm sure there's a certain amount that can be pegged to her being inarticulate, but then there's this whole other part where she really just doesn't give a damn. Like how she refuses to be truly grateful for everything Chris has done for her just because he's not her biological father. Like he's been trying to buy her off. Newsflash, sweetie: If he were trying to buy you off, he would have stopped long ago because you're such an ingrate. The irony, of course, is that I would not be the least bit shocked if Bratshley ended up being some old perv's sugar baby in the not-so-distant future.
Over at the Gorga mansion, Melissa does more squealing than the kids when they descend the stairs to check out what Santa brought. Among the loot is a mini-drum set. For Gino? Isn't he, like, three? I guess it's never too early to nurture your own little Mickey Dolenz or Peter Criss. After a tour of the kids other presents, we see all that Santa Joe brought to Melissa, including a blinged-out pair of Stuart Weitzman shoes (technically those are from Antonia), a Louis Vuitton roller bag, and a gold Rolex. She justifies the excess by saying that "it's Jesus's birthday." As a Southerner, that's got to be my favorite thing about Melissa. It all comes back to Jesus, no matter how convoluted or nonsensical the way there. "I want to shop like a maniac. It's Jesus's birthday!" "I'm a third-rate singer with a really nice rack and a super-rich husband, thus I can pursue a music career. Thank you, Jesus!" Jesus really is the best excuse.