The Plotters

Evening at the Chateau de Healy. Mammy Healy and my Yogic sister Marie are gathered round the kitchen table in conference. Enter Heelers stage left.
"Hello, hello, hello," sez I breezily. "What devilish schemes are you hatching?"
They eye me disdainfully.
It is a fairly impressive feat.
Simultaneous disdain.
"We are talking about having a Kris Kingle for Christmas this year," the Mammy informs me.
I look momentarily confused.
Marie proceeds to explain what a Kris Kingle is.
"It is a way of cutting down on Christmas present costs," quoth she. "Everybody in the house puts their name into a hat. We all draw a name. And we only have to buy a present for the name we draw."
Bloody hell.
So that's what they're at.
Trying to ruin Christmas.
Again.
Last year they came up with a plan to eat Christmas dinner at Marie's house. This year it's an ephin Kris Kingle.
Why do you mock me oh Lord, why do you mock me?