HOW HARD IS IT?

Christmas that is.

Before I begin the ranting, let me extend to my baby sister Fran, a HAPPY BIRTHDAY! The old girl is now older than me! She has been slowly gaining on me in years, and this year she finally passed me!

This Christmas thing is wearing me out. Yesterday afternoon, I spent the whole time writing and addressing and stamping envelops for Christmas and Holiday cards! That is a lot of work. Most of you when you get a card read it quickly and put it aside. Christmas is a physical thing, requiring great energy, time and money. After you open the card, my mouth is still dry from the licking of the flaps on the envelopes from the days before!

I store all my decorations on a top shelf in my garage. I do this because I don’t like me, never have, and never will. This means risking life and limb to grab a wobbly ladder, and grab huge overstuffed heavy boxes, which sit over my head. They are long and awkward. The ladder shakes and my legs become wobbly, testing my patience and Italian swear words.

Then there is that wreath, you know, the one that goes outside, in the freezing cold. The one that looks more worn every year. Again, get the ladder, open it up and climb, and while I climb, the front legs of the ladder sink about three inches into the ground, threatening to flip me into my large dining room window, and onto the dining room table.

Once my fingers get back the circulation, back into the garage for more torture, taking out the Christmas tree. For all you politically correct wussies, I’m using the word ‘Christmas!’ That’s ‘C-H-R-I-S-T-M-A-S’, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas! So there. No ‘Holiday”-Christmas.

We have gone over the years from a real tree to one that is artificial, and now one that has the lights on all the time, even in the box, stored. Whoever came up with this idea was or is a genius. I HATE PUTTING UP THE TREE, TRYING TO GET THE #&64ING LIGHTS TO ALL WORK, THEN BLINK!

TLW (The Little Woman) comes home every year and asks: “Why aren’t all the lights blinking?” Holding my sore back, I suggest she blink her eyes real fast.

Every year we have thousands of little items that need to be put in some kind of imaginative way. I used to care, did care, don’t care, anymore!

The cards we get have to be displayed. I don’t know why, but someone wrote a book on Christmas cards, and they have to be displayed. I would like to display them in the drawer.

Last year I suggested that I put all the decorations in a box outside my front door, so when someone comes in, they can pick one and stick it wherever they wish, (without disturbing me).
After Christmas, if they happen to be leaving my house, they can unstick the item and drop it into the box on their way out.

There is baking, cooking, trying to be merry, and being nice. C’mon folks, you know me, why should I phony it up? There is shopping and wrapping presents, that is another archaic tradition from the law books of Christmas. Why can’t you leave it in the bag you carried it home in from the store?

Actually, the only holiday I like is Christmas Eve. (Holiday Eve for you politically correct sissies). That is a real family day. I see my family, we have a nice Italian feast, and no one can talk because we are all too full!

But hey, Merry Christmas, anyway, I still love you all!