Clearly written by a guy

Monday, December 24, 2007

"twas the night before christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring not even a mouse"

It is 11:40 p.m. on Christmas eve. I have not been NOT stirring since six a.m.

Now normally - I am not a last minute kind of gal. I mail my holiday cards out the first weekend of December. I have addressed these cards in August. They were purchased the previous January.

On every other Christmas eve, I have simply waited until my spastic, over sugared kid was knocked out then hauled out the gifts. I had wrapped them days, sometimes weeks before hand. I simply needed to artfully arrange them, fluff the bows I had crafted from tinsel, and marvel at the splendor of my tree and gift wrapping and arranging.

Not this year. The cards sit in stacks - addressed, but not signed. I finished wrapping the last gift not more than ten minutes ago, and frankly I was a little aghast at the poor quality of my wrapping. There are No bows to be seen on any gifts this year.

I also had grocery shopping to do today. ACK. I thought a fight was going to break out in the dairy aisle over buttermilk - of all things. As the grocery store was out of eggnog, I went to the Second Cup ( my coffee joint) and begged a cup of eggnog from the barista. She kindly filled a cup with the nog, which I explained was going to be happily mixed with rum at the conclusion of the wrapping. I only partake of the nog once time per year. Christmas eve. And it must be mixed with rum.

And the soap. Remind me to keep my great fucking ideas to myself,can you? After proving myself to be a competent soap maker, my husband decided this afternoon that I needed to make soap for the neighbors. So there I was, at 6:30 tonight, making soap. Terrance suggested to Emily that I might like to make cookies for Santa too, at which point the lasers that shot from my eyes and set my husbands hair on fire seemed to have signaled that I was otherwise occupied.

Did I mention that my period waited until Sunday to roar back into my life?

And that Emily has decided to wake every 30 minutes and peek out to see if Santa had come yet?

I sit here - drinking my rum and eggnog pondering the truth of nobody stirring, and deciding that this poem was clearly written by a guy - for other guys. If it were written by a woman, here is what I imagine the poem to be like:

"Twas the night before Christmas,

What? No. I haven't seen the tape. I bought three rolls of tape yesterday.

and all through the house

No. I haven't made cookies. And I don't have more boxes. I gave you all the boxes I had.

Not a creature was stirring

well, except my child -who won't fall asleep. Which is terrible, because I know she is going to make a break for it at 3:30 a.m. when I have just fallen asleep...

not even a mouse.

Who am I kidding? I am going to sit down and drink this eggnog and rum because this is all starting again at 6 a.m. during which I will also be required to take pictures - while looking as if I have been on some kind of meth binge.

I raise my glass to you, fellow adults of the world, and wish you a relaxed and enjoyable holiday.

2 Baleful Regards:

Anonymous said...

Aww, c'mon that is not fair at all. I certainly am sure I am not the only father that has spent most (and a couple of years ALL) night up assembling a bike, or a toy table, or looking for a store because no matter how many batteries you think you have stocked and ready, you will always find one toy with the notorious "* batteries not included" that requires the one size you do not have.

I do agree though that the concept of the "quiet house" on Xmas eve is at the very least, quite a dated concept. But it is only fiction. :)

Jenny said...

Hah! That's really funny, that's what my 24th was like and I had this crazy eye twitch that went away the day after Christmas. I didn't send Christmas cards out at all they're here all set to go, on my dining room table.

Happy New Year!

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