“Don’t you just get more and more excited as it gets closer to Christmas?”
This was the start of a conversation over scrambled eggs yesterday, December-the-very-first, with our exchange student, Anna. Since I don’t talk much before 8 am, my only reply was to stare at her over my coffee mug, contemplating her sobriety.
Then I thought about the relationship I have the holidays, and how likely it is I’m gonna let this girl way down sometime in the coming weeks.
If you’ve been here for any length of time, you know I’m kind of a Scrooge. Want a refresher? Well there’s that tale about our amazing city lights tour – aka the Vomit Trolley Ride of 2004, or the one about how I only do Christmas crafts as an act of revenge, or there was that time I almost came to blows with Santa.
I haven’t any excuse for this hostility. It’s not that Christmas is a particularly dark time of year for me. I don’t get seasonal depression. There’s no trauma in my past. I’m just one of those people who really doesn’t go in for schmaltz. Or shopping. Or crafts, clutter, or empty calories for that matter (except beer, that is. And I do kinda dig spiked eggnog). I’m mostly just lazy. And a cynic. And schmaltz is way less funny than cynicism.
A little research and a consultation with our own kid who’s currently living among Anna’s people, confirmed that Danes do Christmas like they mean it, and Anna appears to be keeping pace with her homeboys. Before December was even upon us, she’d been to two tree-lighting ceremonies and a couple holiday concerts, and had a stack of homemade Christmas cards ready to send. The girl is ready for the holiday.
I on the other hand (and this is no lie people) have yet to stow the one Halloween decoration I put out: a doormat with ghosts on it. It took me way longer to find than thought it would, and then get it out there on the stoop. I’m still recovering.
It’s kind of embarrassing how little I care for Christmas, and this year, next to the jolly elf we have living upstairs, my lack of enthusiasm is really going to be noticeable unless I get a little more into the spirit of things.
Okay, so, it’s the Be More Merry Challenge of 2016. I can be merry. I can be so damn merry, Christmas will end up feeling like it was punched in the face by too much merry. It might even beg for a little less merry by about the 15th.
Check it out – I have a list.
I’ll wear festive stuff. Today I wore a big, red poncho. Nothing says “merry” like draping yourself with twenty-seven yards of red fabric and stomping around like a damn matador. And I stuck a tree pin in it to boot. A little over the top, maybe, but we got to kick this stuff off right.
I’ll send things in time for the holiday. This is kind of a tall order because the stuff I’m shipping is going overseas. And I’m kind of bad about remembering that mail takes longer than an actual nanosecond, especially during the holidays. But I did get supplies for some goodies I can’t tell you about in case you’re one of the folks on my list. Which is a small, teensy list, by the way, so don’t get all excited on me.
I’ll decorate early. Everyone around here has lights up and there’s not single, other Halloween doormat to be found. But, you know, whatever Halloween. Your time’s up.
I’m going to run this half marathon where everyone’s dressed up like Santa. Only Santa probably doesn’t sweat as much as I do. I hope that red hat is color-fast or I could wind up looking like Sissy Spacek at the prom by the end of my run.
I will spread Christmas cheer far and wide for all to hear by singing carols every day. In the shower. So I guess I’ll spread Christmas cheer if you happen to be in earshot while I’m in the shower. Which would be creepy. Don’t plan on being near me if I’m in the shower, unless you want to get arrested.
I’ll sit my family down to a Holiday movie or two. Funny movies, not schmaltzy. I still have standards. Plus we watched White Christmas a couple days ago and I can’t get that song Rosemary Clooney and that skinny gal sang about sisters out of my head. No one needs that kind of earworm. Nope. So something from National Lampoon, or Dr. Seuss. Someday we’ll do schmaltz. Not today. Baby steps, people.
I’ll be equal opportunity with the cheer. You can wish me Happy Holidays, Hanukah, Kwanza, Solstice, or whatever it is you celebrate, and I’ll wish you one right back. Probably louder and with more enthusiasm than you probably expected. Don’t let it frighten you. I’m kind of on a mission.
“In the midst of over the top Elf on the Shelf, baking disasters, and all the other bizarre family traditions, these moms keep their sense of humor through it all . . . . perfect blend of wit, sarcasm, and reminiscing. Grab your cup of cocoa or glass of wine and snuggle up with your own copy to weave your way through the coming months with a smile on your face.” ~Bambini Travel
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