Tis’ The Season……

by Sheila Colston
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Well, well, well….it’s that time again……we finally got Thanksgiving behind us and now we REALLY have something to be thankful for…that all that food is either eaten, fed to the dogs, fed to the neighbors dogs, or gone down the disposal.

Either way, Christmas is on the way, and it’s speeding toward us like a southbound train, so there we will be again, with a dead turkey on a platter…..no money left, and a husband who burps for three days afterward and can’t fit into the Levis you bought him for Christmas….

This is the time I love to hate. I know some people get all swallowed up in Christmas, running around buying,
decorating, making menus, calling folks to come over, candying pecans, making chocolate cakes and those boiled cookies that look like cowpiles, trying to match the gift bags and wrapping paper to the color of the tree, swilling hot apple cider, asking who wants what, putting little red hats and outfits with fur on the dogs and cats.

Bless their hearts; the animals must be as confused as I was when I first heard of algebra….

For years and years, my bunch has threatened to buy NO GIFTS except for the kids. This always leads to the question of “How old are you when you are not a kid anymore?” We end up drawing names as a compromise, because we are, after all, all still kids.

I always dread it…I dread it so much that I dread talking about how much I am going to dread it even before I really start dreading it.

If you are a southern woman, you will understand what I just said. And relate.

Now, I don’t often go up north. I prefer to be down here where, when going to the grocery store in fifty five degree weather someone will inevitably come up and say “Cold enough for ya?”

I lived in Duluth, Minnesota for five cold years, so I think fifty five degrees is a heat wave. I do reluctantly own one heavy coat which I sometimes wear just to act like I am as cold as everyone else.

Every….single…….Christmas, whether the weather is warm or not, I somehow always find myself shopping in the rain!

I don’t know why this happens, and I know it has nothing to do with baby Jesus or American Girl dolls. I am starting to think its karma, coming to repay me for all the fussing and whining I do.

I start the complaining, whining, and dreading around the end of August, so by the time December gets here; I am really good at it!

I seriously dislike rain hitting me. Umbrellas are no good. The rain always blows under them and hits me anyway. So, here I go, tons of bags in my hands, trying to run, getting rain in my eyes, losing what little hairdo I started out with, and thanking God that wrapping paper has plastic around it.

While cursing under my breath, I drive away, hoping that whatever just flew out of the bag and under a car is not one of the gift cards the kids wanted.

Then, there is the customary argument concerning dressing. I don’t mean clothes, I mean the dressing we southerners think we will die if we don’t have, and it better be good. There is always, always a “discussion” about who makes it the best and who should cook it this time. My momma started this stressful tradition, and to this day, it’s a touchy subject……

But……as usual……….the day comes whether I like it or not.

Some things have been wrapped at the last minute. Some gifts are lost and replaced with cash. The bird is in the oven, the ham is sliced, the cranberry sauce is cold, the cheese dip is hot, and only a few lights are working on the tree. There is no time to fix them because…

HERE THEY COME!!

People are laughing and drifting in. They hug, kiss, shout at each other across the house, and show off the new babies, jewelry or boots. Leaves blow into every door that’s opened, and I give up on keeping the floor clean.

Gifts are piled higher than my head around the tree. Kids are screaming and crumbling cookies on the couches and chairs. Every television in the house is on a different program, and they are all loud. Dogs are being stepped on in melee.

The men are talking football and laughing. The women are trying to find a place on the counter for twelve pies. Someone is outside helping find places to park. Someone else is calling for directions to our house.

Forty glasses of tea are being poured. The dining table, the one that’s never used, is filling up with plates.

The kids are praying for snow. One of them is in time out for trying to put a Santa outfit on our seventeen year old Pekingese. Another one is sobbing because she couldn’t kill an Angry Bird.

I stir my hot chocolate with a peppermint stick. I stand in the corner of the kitchen where I can see everyone.

The house is so full I can’t see anything but food, people, and gifts. Flashes are going off as pictures are being taken in every direction. Everyone is smiling and hugging, and suddenly, I have tears in my eyes.Okay, Okay, Okay…..I like Christmas just fine!! We never know what losses or pain the next year will bring, but for now, we are together, we are trying to find a trash bag big enough to hold all the wrapping paper, and………..look!! It’s snowing a little bit!!

Happy holidays, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, Joyous Kwanza. Whatever it is to you, just relax and enjoy. Life hands you good and bad, and today is good……….very good.

And hope your dishwasher makes it through the twenty loads it’s about to do………..

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