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Broke Wife, Big City
Without
Christmas, it’s just…winter
By Aprill Brandon
Sorry, guys, but brace yourselves. I am about to Pollyanna-out on all
of you.
Maybe it’s because it’s my baby’s first Christmas or maybe it’s because
I’m getting soft in my old age, but whatever the reason is, I am all
about Christmas this year. I mean, I am downright excreting Christmas
spirit out of my freaking pores.
I have to admit, it’s a nice change of pace. Last year I was super
pregnant during the holidays, which naturally made me want to stab
everyone in the face with a candy cane whenever I left the safe
confines of my house.
And the year before that, well, I don’t exactly remember since all the
electricity in my brain is currently being sucked up by the part that
alerts me that my baby is trying to kill himself AGAIN by chewing on
the cable cord. But I’m sure I was grouchy because the days leading up
to Christmas are chaotic and crowded and my liquor store always runs
out of the gallon-sized, industrial-strength eggnog I use as my holiday
crutch.
But this year? I have Christmas music on constant rotation. I put up
ALL the Christmas decorations, instead of just enough so that it wasn’t
sad. I bought the good wrapping paper, instead of the $1.99 crap that
is made from ancient cobwebs and glitter and falls apart if you happen
to breathe too close to it.
And I’ve already bought most of my gifts instead of waiting until
December 23, where I will inevitably sprain my eyeballs from all the
eye-rolling I will do while waiting in the world’s largest line because
the store thinks having one cash register open is a swell idea two days
before Christmas.
But most amazing of all, I’m actually being nice. To STRANGERS. Stupid,
dumb, ugly strangers who I normally hate. But now? It’s all opening
doors for them and “oh no, after you,” and even “why no, those neon hot
pink skintight leggings aren’t permanently ruining my eyesight at all.”
I don’t know if it will last. If next year, or even next week, I’ll
regress back to my old “bah-humbug” ways. But I hope not. Because this
whole “seeing the gallon of eggnog half-full” thing is actually kind
of…wonderful.
I mean, do you know what this time of year would be without Christmas?
It would just be “oh, hey everyone, winter has started and it’s going
to suck so hard for the next four months.”
And with Christmas, instead of being depressed that night now starts at
3:30 p.m., you get “oh hey, we just finished lunch and it’s already
dark enough to turn on the Christmas tree!” And instead of being
miserable because you’re cold, you get to warm up the house with the
baking of cookies and the cooking of giant hams that are bigger than
your toddler (and then the eating of all the giant ham all in one
sitting because calories don’t count in December). Not to mention, it’s
the only time of the year where it’s socially acceptable to punch the
person who brought the “healthy” cookies into work to share
(ahem…Susan). And while you may think you’re sick of all that Christmas
music, just keep in mind that Christmas is the temporary dam that keeps
the Taylor Swift tidal wave at bay for a few weeks.
Christmas makes snow magical, instead of “the demon powder that makes
me late to work” that it becomes in January. Christmas transforms
decades-old bad animation into beloved holiday classics you actually
look forward to watching. And most importantly, Christmas changes going
to the liquor store at 9 a.m. on a Saturday for seventeen bottles of
wine from “pathetic” to “totally understandable and necessary
purchases.”
Not that Christmas doesn’t have its downsides. The mindless
consumerism, the deep pit of debt, the never-ending flood of Facebook
photos of that elf pooping Hershey kisses on top of cookies. Not to
mention, all those helpful people who keep ruining “Baby, It’s Cold
Outside” by pointing out how rape-y it is.
But for all our bitching about the holiday season, the world would be a
much darker place, quite literally, without Christmas. So I, for one,
plan to soak up as much Christmas magic as I can.
Before January comes and slowly strangles all our souls with its cold,
dead hands.
Can’t get enough of Aprill? Can’t wait until next week?
Check out her website at http://aprillbrandon.com/
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