They've been gearing up for this season of overindulgence since right before Halloween and it's only increased exponentially. From getting gifts on Thanksgiving because it has suddenly become a gift-giving holiday, to baking cookies and eating candy for breakfast, the winter holidays have become a blended blur of spoiling kids rotten. Is it guilt from not being present in the life of a child that is supposed to be important to you? Do you stop once a year and consider your emotional and possibly physical absence during the other 11 months? Is that what throws you into a tailspin of decorating, baking, shopping, indulging...being an ass? Many of you don't realize that when you are home all friggin day long and you leave your kid at school till 4 or 5pm, you are prioritizing yourself over your child. Then you attempt to make up for it with things and privileges like letting them stay up late to watch even more TV than they already do so that they come to school out of sorts. Genius parenting.
As an adult, I can tell you with confidence, I do not remember most of the presents I got for Christmas. I can barely remember what I ate for breakfast yesterday, I can't be expected to recall the name of the doll I wanted. But, most of us are in the same boat. The things of our past are long forgotten. What remains are the memories of family and friends. The laughter, the food, the hugs, the time spent with those we loved and maybe didn't see very often throughout the year. I can still remember traditions like how I got to decorate the tree, wearing the Santa hat I still own, while my mom decorated the house as Christmas music played in the background. Baking trays of cookies with my mom and needing to hide out in my room while she wrapped gifts so I wouldn't see. And I did because I love surprises! Then again, I did because my mom told me to, and I knew not to question her or disobey her wishes. A whole other topic, I know, but I feel as though it's slightly connected to this train of thought.
I can be horrified for hours just thinking about the children of excess, but it's a waste of my time. Bitch-slapping their parents might be temporarily satisfying, yet could land me in jail. So, I'd like to take the time to tell you what tickles me during the Christmas season. Picking out the right tree. It not only has to have the right height, but it must possess the proper girth, and shape. No long, skinny trees for this broad, nosiree Bob. Give me a fattie or don't bother. Next, it must have good smell. When I come home, I want to be whacked in the nose with scent of Christmas. Having grown up with fake trees, a real one is such a treat for me. But the very real blanket of needles that covers 1/2 of my living room when the tree is brought in, again when we set it up on the stand, and one more time when we wrap the lights and garland send me into angry fits. Vacuuming sucks balls anyway, but having to do it over and over because I don't want to jam up the Dyson and have to empty in between, is fucking torture.
Once the lights and garland are done, it's our daughter's turn to work on the tree. She picks out the decorations and hangs them where she deems appropriate, leaving out the bottom two rows of branches because, well, we have a cat. That should clearly explain why the bottom of our tree is bare every year. Shiny, dangling temptations are just an exercise in futility and I don't need to give the cat another reason to be bad. The pointy needles are all the reasons she needs. A kitty who loves things like butter, cream cheese, BBQ pork, spaghetti, cake, and whipped cream, is suddenly transformed into a feral dumb shit in the presence of a tree in her house. She is hungry all the time due to her over-active thyroid, and now we present her with a giant snack on a stick. And snack away she does. Which would be fine except for the part where she vomits up green and sparkly crap all over the house each time she snacks. Garland tastes pretty good with a few fir needles, or so she'd have you believe by the sheer volume of what she winds up binging and purging every December.
Egg nog, a roaring fire, and Christmas music...not much to ask. Preferring to watch others open carefully purchased gifts instead of demanding more, more, more for myself, I am the total opposite of the little shits that chafe my fucking hide. We can only hope that as they mature, they will figure out what's really important and it most certainly is not the volume of gifts with your name on them under the goddamn tree. Parents, pay attention to what I am about to say. Cease the excessive gift giving, cookie binging, candy stuffing, and late night wildness you are allowing to become holiday tradition for your family. You are the reason my world is going down the toilet and I have absolutely nothing good to look forward to in my old age. Your spawn is going to ruin life as we know it if you keep this up. Cut the little bastards off at the knees, no more stuff! Bake with them, sing Christmas carols with them, build gingerbread houses with them, visit older family members together, and for fuck's sake, teach them how to GIVE instead of demanding more and more shit. This is not what I've taught my child. And it's is definitely not the world in which I want to grow old. Fix it, douchebuckets! Are you friggin kidding me right now???
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