In reality the holidays are very stressful to me, because I have the battle of reality vs. fanatasy. I am responsible for engineering and orchestrating this controlled yuletide train wreck and heaven forbid I screw it up and subject my kids to the reality that this is nothing more than building the foundation of deep seated feelings of sullen inadequacy and years of expensive psychotherapy.
So here we go.
Twas the night before Thanksgiving..... and at 9 oclock at night, I was standing in checkout line at Wal-mart with all the last minute supplies needed to for our dinner off to a great start. And by "dinner" I mean, the scene of the crash. I woke up at 5:00 a.m. put on a pot of coffee, and started to prepare the dinner. As fate would have it, I was forced to make another trip to the store. Let me tell you, Walmart at 5:50 in the morning is a much more pleasant place to shop than usual, because they have not started up the "Slovenly Fat Guy in Sweat Pants Parade™." yet, and most of the other undesirables you would normally encounter are still sleeping off their hangovers or have not bailed out from jail yet.
We made it through Thanksgiving without any episodes salmonella poisoning from undercooked bird. We did not eat to excess, and managed to not totally frighten or otherwise scar the minds of our two exchange students. Oh, had I forgotten to mention that? With the arrival of the new school year, we decided to join the university program that pairs families with foreign students, to allow them to have a family to adopt while they are so far from home. I think the idea is to foster a safe environment for cultural exchange, and to allow the homesick kids to have surrogate families who will love on them. There was a an application process and a background check but when we were awarded a couple of students anyway, I knew their vetting process was horrifically flawed.
For me, the Christmas season kicks off as soon as the dishes are cleaned up after the Thanksgiving dinner. I am not a fan of the "Black Friday" thng myself, mostly because the images of people fighting over a big screen TV, or pepper spraying each other to get the very last discounted Xbox, just muddies up the whole "Peace on Earth, Goodwill to all Men" concept. That being said, my wife is still bragging about how she loves her brand new Ipad. I hear the Octegenarian she sacked will get their broken hip replaced by New Years Day.
Each year I have specific rituals that I like to do, one is to watch the shows I have cherished since childhood, another is to read stories to the kids about the Nativity, as well as teach thm about other ways that people celebrate the holidays. My favorite activity is to go see the big Christmas light displays all over the region. We loaded up the van and headed down to Denver to see the biggest display, which I have missed in the past few years due to poor planning, illness, bad weather, and the like. On the way we detoured to see another famous display, and arrived at dusk, and sure enough, it was not on. We waited, drove around, came back and still no joy. Finally we saw the owner walking outside and I rolled down the car window to inquire about the time of the show only to be told that we were two weeks too early. As we drove away I am sure he heard my annoyed family asking why I did not check the website for show times.
Josh, the 4 year old has been getting very excited about the main event. He has been talking about Santa, and asking me daily if I know what is going to happen on Christmas eve. You can hear the excitement in his voice, because he loves the season. He sings holiday songs all the time, and I realized that I may have failed in the explaining of the Christmas holiday to my kids because Josh keeps alternatively singing "The Dreidl Song" and "Joy To The World!"
Inasmuch as Josh is really excited about Santa, he seems to have a certain sixth sense about who is and is not really Santa. The two of us were shopping for a Christmas tree the other night and as we walked into the store, there was an elderly man who did not appear to be in good health, sporting a shaggy greyish white beard, sitting in a wheel chair ringing a bell for a charity. He looked at Josh and in a feeble raspy voice wheezed, "I hear you have been a very good boy this year! Ho Ho heaghhh..." Then he touched his red and white Santa hat which lit up and played a greeting card quality digital version of "Jingle Bells." Josh Looked at me and whispered something that I did not discern. I asked him to repeat it and in a slightly louder than required tone he said, "Daddy, I smell pee pee. Can't we just go into the store now?" It seemed like a good time to usher Josh away and sheepishly mutter that we might be close to the stockyards, but we all knew that saving face was a ship that had sailed at this point. We found the fresh tree section and picked out a fine specimen that would grace our living room and provide fond memories for years to come. Yea, about that. I am a touch color blind and largely cannot discern greens from shades of brown. Apparently I picked out a tree that could best be described as in it's twilight years.
The tree was put up and we invited our host students over to have night of decorating and traditional holiday treats. Unfortunately, at least in our household of mixed cultures, this does not always shake out to be eggnog and sugar cookies. I need to put voice to an observation here. Indonesian food is neither festive nor Christmassy. I do not care what you think, serving up sambal terasi made out of blazing hot chilis and dried shrimp paste, with a side of plain white rice, is going to send Santa and all his reindeer packing for the north pole.
The kids decorated the tree, and all was good. Good that is, until one week before Christmas. That was when the tree up and died. It is dropping needles faster than faster than a heroin addict in a police raid. It is like a match waiting to give birth to a fireworks display. I want to take the thing down now but everyone says I should play the odds and see if we can hold out until Boxing day. It has me a bit rattled. We only have about a day and a half to go so maybe we won't become holiday news story.
With the big event only hours away, Christmas eve service in 4 hours, company arriving in this evening, the kids channeling their excitement into shrill squeals of delight, roast in the oven and about 6000 more cookies to bake before midnight, I want to wish you all a very warm and Merry Christmas, and I urge you all to sit back and think of the real reason for the season, and if that is not possible, imagine me, struggling to make the holiday brighter for my neighbors by adding a special touch to my driveway.
