With only two days to go until the Big Day, I’m already sick of Christmas. When I think of all the things on my “To Do” list this time of year, it’s no wonder. Also no wonder: why my husband and kids think this is the best time of the year.

My To Do List:

•Select Christmas presents for my husband’s family.

•Beg, plead and whine to get my husband and children to write their “Wish Lists” for Christmas.

•Abandon efforts from previous step after 2 unsuccessful weeks. Go through notes I’ve kept all year to remind self of things Hubby and kids said they wanted for Christmas.

•Type and send wish lists to grandparents who’ve been nagging me for same since July.

•Juggle budget and prioritize bills to make money available for Christmas presents. (Miss sleep two nights in a row worrying whether the water company will shut off our service if I delay payment by two weeks.)

•Price-compare and buy Christmas presents for Hubby and kids.

•Nag Hubby to bring up boxes of Christmas decorations and artificial tree. Continue daily as needed.

•Set up artificial tree and unwrap all decorations. Postpone decorating when Daughter says she wants to help.

•After two weeks of looking at the bare tree, gather ornaments from where the cat has batted them across the floor and hang on tree. Extract son’s half-eaten sandwiches and cookies from stockings and hang on the mantle.

•Nag Hubby to put up Christmas lights outside. When he bitches, remind him that they’re nets so all he has to do is lay the freaking things over the bushes and plug them in.

•After two weeks of envying my neighbor’s beautiful outdoor lights, threaten to withhold sex if Hubby doesn’t put the damned lights up outside.

•Make Hubby cocoa to warm him back up after he puts the outdoor lights up on the one and only night we’ve had sub-zero temperatures.

•While trying to choose wrapping paper, bows and gift tags, listen to kids bitch about how “Martha Stewart-y” my tastes are and how they hate it when I color co-ordinate the wrapping with the tree ornaments. Offer to let them choose this year. Wind up with garish, cheap wrapping paper and bows that won’t stick to the packages.

•Spend an entire night hunting down scissors (in son’s room), tape (in daughter’s room) and tissue paper (in laundry room… not sure why) then prepare to wrap presents. Abandon efforts when the corners of boxes rip through the cheap-ass wrapping paper that my kids picked.

•Run to store in the middle of the night looking for better wrapping paper. Find pretty bows and gift tags that match. Feel better about missing out on sleep.

•Return home to find that cat has shredded cheap-ass wrapping paper all over family room, swallowed piece of cheap-ass bow and regurgitated a technicolored glob on my white carpet.

•Lock cat in basement.

•Pour self a drink.

•Stay up late wrapping presents. Steel self for whine-fest likely to occur when daughter realizes that son has one more present than she does.

•Hop online and order a present for daughter to even the score. Cringe over the cost of over-night delivery.

•At Hubby’s request, bake cookies and other treats that I can’t eat due to my diet.

•Make and wrap plates of cookies to give to neighbors as presents. Ask Hubby to deliver them. Bitch at Hubby until he gets around to delivering them. Roll eyes when Hubby returns with half-empty plates meant for neighbors he says weren’t home.

•Choose Christmas cards. Update address book. Realize that every name in our Christmas Card list is someone associated with Hubby’s family or job. Ask Hubby to sign cards. Remind Hubby daily for one week. Toss un-signed Christmas cards in trash and resolve not to bother with them at all next year.

•Plan menu for Christmas dinner. Write grocery list. Shop for food. Unpack grocery bags once home. Spend entire day before Christmas washing, slicing, chopping, dicing and pre-cooking as much as possible.

•Spend remainder of day before Christmas cleaning house and doing laundry so the place looks nice on Christmas morning.

•Get up early Christmas morning to stuff turkey and put it in the oven.

•While up, make Christmas breakfast, start coffee and stuff kids’ stockings.

•Watch family spend an hour or two ripping open their various packages, toss wrapping paper and bows and exclaim delight over having received just what they wanted for Christmas.

•Clean up shredded wrapping paper and bow barfed up by the cat.

•Open my one (yes, ONE) Christmas present that Hubby bought me from the Wish List I’d compiled at his request because he couldn’t be troubled to think on his own to find something wonderful to give me. Oooh and ahh over it because “it’s the thought that counts.”

•Perform similar ooohing and ahhhing over the bag of Pine Sol-scented potpurri (or old lady-scented lotion) from my son and the plaque featuring a Big Eyed Child and corny saying that my daughter bought me at the Dollar Store so she could pocket the rest of the money her father gave her to spend on my Christmas present.

•Wait two days then pack up all of the decorations while Hubby is at work.

•Wonder why I feel “let down” each year when the holiday’s are over.

Meanwhile, Hubby and the kids’ “To Do” lists look something like this:

•Pick out something for Mom from the counters near the cash register and hope she doesn’t realize they spent the rest of their Christmas gift money on themselves.

•Shove Mom’s presents in gift bags. Shove these under the tree.

•Eat cookies.

•Open stockings and presents.

•Eat Christmas dinner. Balk at being asked to do dishes.

•Tell all of their friends and family members how they got exactly what they wanted for Christmas.

•Complain that Mom is too tired to take them to the movies after they’re tired of playing with their brand-new toys.

Ho-freaking-ho.

Friday, December 23rd, 2005, 2:51 pm   |   My Venomous Life  |  RSS feed Comments and pings are currently closed.