For some reason, this past week has been hell week. What, with puking kids, crazy unexpected last-minute debacles at work, 2 Xmas parties at 2 different schools, gift bags to assemble, things to bake, and the usual household chaos, I’ve just felt kind of tired and worn down.
Still, I’m in excellent shape. I should feel a modicum of holiday smugness. All of my gifts are bought and wrapped. Santa has his shit together as well, I understand. The Xmas dinner menu is planned and most of the key ingredients purchased. My cards are all out. Except….
I got 2 the other day that I wasn’t expecting. I wasn’t expecting them in that I hadn’t sent a card to these people. I simply forgot. Getting their cards (first!) made me feel like an asshole. As I scurried through the house grabbing envelopes and stamps so that I could rectify my error, Will looked at me like I was insane. I was probably acting a bit insane (thank you fatigue, stress, and PMS). He pointed out that we were talking about Xmas cards, not war games. He. Is. So. Wrong.
And after all of my shopping and planning and execution, full of expectation at the joy and delight that will soon be apparent on my children’s faces, Will comes home from work with a handful of washers and nuts and wins Felix. My son has walked around the house since, with his fist full of nuts Preciouses. In order to keep them all out of his bed that night (you know he wanted to sleep with them), I had to “tuck them in” to Umi Car and cover them with a Kleenex blanket (clean, of course). They were the first thing he went to the next morning.All that work – the planning, the shopping, the wrapping, the stashing …I could’ve just taken my boy to the Home Depot and let him loose in the hardware section. I will admit, however, that it’s pretty damn funny hearing him run all over the house yelling “My nuts! My nuts!” I feel like Beavis.