Thursday, December 15, 2011

Just Call Me Grinch

While I love the sounds and smells of Christmas I have to accept the fact that I don't really want to do anything to achieve them in my own house. I like them much better in someone else's house. A friend called today telling me how exhausted she is from baking, cleaning, shopping, decorating and she still isn't done. She has to make cupcakes for her son's school and something for after church Sunday...oh...and she is making a platter of Christmas goodies for her husband to take to work. I don't think she saw the humor in my suggestion that she could cut that list down considerably by getting a divorce, putting the children up for adoption and becoming an atheist.  She says I really need to come and visit her house because she has a Christmas tree that plays music,she has the most adorable little village that also plays music and her children have learned Christmas carols they can sing to me. She also didn't appreciate it when I told her I would come by as soon as I got my Klonopin prescription filled because I would need it being bombarded by so much Christmas music in such a small area combined with the presence of her howler monkey children. She then informed me I was worse than The Grinch at Christmas. She is quite possibly right. I consider my house fully decorated if I just manage to get the tree up. Maybe it has something to do with being single again. I use to go all out, inside and out decorating for Christmas. I didn't realize then how much I hated doing that every year until the year I decided not to do it. That was the Christmas I enjoyed, no pressure to decorate by a certain time, no large crowd coming in for dinner every single year and leaving without helping clean up anything, no gifts to shop for, no baking and delivering goodies, etc. So now I have decided to enjoy it every year. Besides, all those nice decorations kind of lose some of their beauty when you're standing in the middle of them with your hair uncombed and pug drool covered pajamas on. That snowflake robe only covers so much! I also don't think many would find the lovely glittery logs my pug Lola leaves on the Christmas tree skirt, every morning since I put the tree up, quite as decorative or as amusing as I do.

I still bake my Christmas goodies, but on a much smaller scale, I no longer feel the need to feed the neighbors, the police department and all emergency services too. I might take an offering to the 911 service just as an insurance policy. I would really hate to have them answer a 911 call to my house, come in, see who it is and say: "Oh hell no, Jack that is the bitch that stopped bringing us rice krispy treats shaped like wreaths, stop with the ambu bag, just let her go!"

I only have teenagers, they don't want wrapped gifts, only cash.Since I hate shopping with every fiber of my being I am going to make them happy again this year.

To me the perfect Christmas is snuggled on the couch with a Pug and a Chihuahua in my lap, lights twinkling on the tree, all those Christmas movies I have recorded from the Vagina Network this year on TV (do these movies change from year to year or am I watching the same ones over and over and just don't realize it? I can't tell anymore.), the smells of the ham baking in the oven and the pies cooling on the kitchen island filling the house, my son happily counting his cash and a plate of goodies I don't have to share on the coffee table in front of me.

The best part? The best part of all is no fucking Christmas music coming from my tree!

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