In case you hadn’t heard, Christmas is my favorite holiday of the year.  Partly because I’m allowed to celebrate it from the day after Thanksgiving to MLK Day…or the day the Christmas Tree dies.  I’m not sure exactly how long that is, since MLK day is one of those days I never realize is happening until I try and go mail my cousin’s birthday gift and find the Post Office doors won’t open.  At which point, I figure its either MLK Day or the Postal Clerk wants some privacy.  Whichever it is, its also the Universe’s signal to me to take down the freakin’ Christmas Tree already.

What I’m trying to say is that the only way Christmas could get better would be if it had costumes.

Getting called Santa because you bent over in front of your entire family in a pair of red sweat pants DOESN’T count as being in costume.

While other people are busy maxing out their credit cards, I’m busy decking the halls.  And the windows.  And the door frames.  And the chandeliers.  And anything else I can cram some tinsel on and call it festive.  I make my own Christmas cards, stitch stockings for whatever kid I’ve birthed this year, and am on a first name basis with the UPS man AND his seasonal help.

Going to the mail box during the first three weeks of December is like getting called down to be the next contestant on the Price Is Right.  If you sort through enough of the crappy catalogs, you’re bound to hit the jackpot.  Your creepy neighbor’s overly personal christmas letter.  The annual Christmas photo of your Uncle and his cats in matching holiday sweaters.  Or one of those long-awaited holiday packages.

We got our first yesterday.  Honestly, I’m still a little giddy over it.  It was crammed full of ornaments, cards, gifts, and cookies.  Enough for all of us.  Or so I thought.

Which is why, instead of burying those lovely little containers stuffed with as many meringues as they could possibly hold beneath a mountain of breast milk in the back of the freezer where I could sneak one during those rare moments when the kid’s are napping and the Big Man is busy with his mistress IPhone, I generously put them out in full view.  Aka, the internationally known signal for “Help Yourself.”

And then I went to book club.

After two hours of intellectually stimulating conversation on the latest romance novels and fantasy thrillers, I came home to a quiet house.  The kids were in bed.  The Big Man was upstairs wrapping presents.  And the dishes were done.  It was my own little Utopia.

As I gave the Big Man a hug and thanked him for doing his part to restore my sanity, he bent down and whispered softly in my ear.

“By the way, if you want any of those meringues your Oma sent today?  You might want to get on them.  Now.”

Which is when I realized that, in a matter of two hours, not only had the Big Man fed, washed, and put the children to bed and cleaned up the kitchen.  But he had also managed to eat almost the Entire box of meringues.  The ones I had oh so generously put out, thinking he didn’t like them at all.  The ones I had planned on parceling out each day as a reward for making it through nap time.  The ones I’m now gorging myself on to finish them before the Big Man does.

And that?  Is the true spirit of the holidays, ya’ll.


Krystyn December 14, 2011 at 9:45 am

My hubby would do that, too….but he’d probably finish it and then say “well, you left it out, so I thought you didn’t like it!”

Hope the gorging was enjoyable.

Domesticated Gal December 14, 2011 at 2:14 pm

The Big Man does that all the time too! Although he does usually restrain himself for at least a day. Unless its twizzlers. In which case all bets are off.

Maggy December 9, 2011 at 5:10 pm

Clark does this ALL THE TIME to the most unexpected food items. Then I clean the whole kitchen thinking that I’ve lost them. Because I’ve hidden them from myself. One of these items = your chocolate chip cookies, btw.

Domesticated Gal December 9, 2011 at 10:41 pm

If you clean the entire kitchen looking for something Clark ate, then I’d say Clark owes you at least a couple of bathroom cleans in exchange!

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