Ten Reasons I Hate Christmas. It's Because My Heart Is Too Small....

I changed my Facebook profile to the Grinch not because I was under any illusion that it would benefit abused children but because I have loved the Grinch since I was a child.  It was the only show I begged to watch and marked on the calendar as a child.

I recently found the calendar I used in 4th and 5th grades and I put "Very Special Day!" on Grinch day.   You know, before you could record stuff.  We had a b/w TV with rabbit ears.  We got our first color TV in 1971, years after everybody else did.  

Mom and Dad sniffed at TV until they got hooked on Dallas and Knots Landing and after that ol' J.R. or Jane Wyman was on all the time, it seems.  Daddy also taped hundreds of Rush Limbaugh shows.  The dump has a lot of his VCR tapes in it.

I'm starting out here with bupkus, but I bet I can come up with ten reasons why I hate Christmas-always have-without any problem.

Go!

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1.  Faking it.   I remember the first thing I ever faked.  (snort).  No comments from the peanut gallery.   I was..eh..2? Probably 3.   There was a doll waiting for me.  I wondered why Santa hadn't noticed that I hated dolls (except from one well loved one from toddler days).  I remember running into the room and reminding myself to show appropriate enthusiasm.   

Mom felt that any gift, including pairs of hideous socks from distant relatives, deserved a show of appreciation roughly equivalent to winning ONE MILLION DOLLARS on a game show.  I learned real quick to give Oscar-worthy performances.  No comment as to whether I used these skills later in life.

2.  Greed.  Don't get me wrong. I like stuff.  A lot.  And to paraphrase Jerry Seinfeld, "there's nothing wrong with that."  But my sweet little baby Jesus!!   My email box is filled with special offers!!!  Once in a lifetime!!!  Buy Buy Buy!!!!  Every kiss begins with Okay!!!   Nobody will love you unless you bankrupt yourself spending money on them!

I bet that's why everybody hates me!  (A light dawns.)

Speaking of greed, we got lectures every year from Mom about the extreme poverty she grew up with, and how we should be The Most Grateful Little Brats In The First World. 

She got--apples and peppermint candy canes.  "Maybe some nuts and an orange."


She had me literally in tears at times.  "I never got a new bike."  (This occurred the year I was in 3rd grade.  I got a new bike, opened the Sears Roebuck Catalog, showed them they had bought the cheapest one in the book and then took the book over to show Eva Kosztarab, my 10 year old next door neighbor who received the same bike, that it was the cheapest in the catalog.)

"My brothers," began Mom, "put together an old bicycle out of parts for me to ride.  It was so hard to pedal."


Mom forgot a few details.


Her parents owned a huge farm in North Carolina.  That farm paid for 7 kids' college educations  and several, including Mom, earned graduate degrees also.

PORTIONS of that farm sold for over 1/2 a million dollars a few years ago.

3.  Guilty Giving.  The Salvation Army bells ring.  The pleas come in.   A friend of mine reports that her daughter received a letter from her teacher ORDERING her to buy a gift for a child in the school's special needs class.  The children in that class have special learning needs.   They aren't in the class because their families are poor.  

My friend's child owns none of the gifts that "her" child has asked for--X Boxes, 360 Playstations, Wiis....etc.  Yet the teacher will be giving failing grades to kids who do not bring in gifts for their chosen child.

I am not even going to begin to describe how stupid this is.  If you read my blog, you are obviously very smart.

Yes, I have more than most people in the world.  No, I don't feel like giving it away.  Why?  Because I myself am--at the present time--say it with me--disabled and unemployed.  I also have degrees and a small pension and nobody, and I mean NOBODY, can top me for frugality.   So we can afford some stuff.  Yes.

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But we rescued two poor little homeless orphans/sarcasm off (just because I wanted cute kids) and two dogs (just because I wanted cute dogs).  These four young creatures are now spoiled yuppie puppy types and they come first.

Between Roger and me, we also have three sickly parents who need help.   

But if you saw me with my heirloom diamonds from years gone by, from an earlier, wealthier generation, walk by a ringing Santa, you would judge me, maybe.  And to heck with you.   Stuff one of those old socks my aunt's partner gave me in your maw, okay?  Not that I'm hostile or anything.  Wait.  I am hostile.  Never mind.

I give to animal charities.  My money.  My choice.

4.  Say What?  I offered many small items on the local freecycle lists.  They work, they're in good condition.  People write in asking for stuff.  Someone wanted a "Barbie Dream Home-wood preferred."  I wrote back and offered a bunch of nice Barbie stuff.  No answer.

5. Presents.  My parents were lovely people.  But sometimes they could be so rude!    I'll just throw our a few examples here.   Kind of hypocritical, I have to say, considering the jubilance they expected from us after opening a box containing new underwear.

My Dad admired my sister's leather jacket back in the 80s. It was pretty.  She saved her pennies and bought him a lovely jacket.  He gave it back to her the next day and told her to take it back.  He didn't want it.

Sis & I and our husbands all chipped into buy the best TV antenna on the market for Dad, since my parents refused to have cable.

He gave it back.  "This looks like something Kramer (from Seinfeld) would use."   We were so hurt.

I once gave Mom a jar of chocolate fudge topping for her  favorite dessert-ice cream.  She looked at it, made a face, and said, rudely, "We don't eat this rich stuff!"   This from the woman who never went one day without dessert.  And never weighed over 110 lbs in her life.  Daddy weighed 150.   They had a small dessert every day of their life.  

Roger and his brothers chipped in to give his parents a digital Christmas frame several years ago when they were very expensive.  I told him it was a waste of money.  Three days later it was shoved in the cabinet.  They didn't want it, didn't use it, and it's still there.  

We give a present to Roger's parents, one large gift to each kid, and buy ourselves some household treat.  This year it's the new washer/dryer combo which I still can't believe that I bought, but I'm going with it.  

Life is simpler.  And better.

6.  Forced Joy.  Terrible personal things have happened to me in December.   

I don't feel very joyous.

7.  Bills.   Bar dues.   House taxes.  Continuing Legal Education credits.  Mom's nursing home bills hit a new high this month-$7200.00.   We got a letter asking for a contribution for Christmas gifts for the nursing home staff.  Let me just whip out my....never mind.

8.  The Happy Laughter Of Little Kids.   I remember two occasions when I saw a look of unbridled joy on Madeleine's face. Once when she got a new bicycle, and once when they got Rock Band.    I caught the Rock Band one on camera.

I'm still mad that I didn't catch the bicycle one.

Now they know exactly what they're getting, pretty much. We cannot afford to guess at these prices.  So much for the joy of seeing stunned faces on Christmas Day.   Instead I see forced smiles for the camera. 

Notice the Wii game being ignored.  They wanted it, we got it for them, they use it, they appreciate it.   But they're excitedly opening $2.00 gifts.

My sister gave my daughter a beautiful T-shirt last year.  I coveted it.  She smiled for the camera.  Three weeks later it was under the bed being used as a dog blanket.  Why?  "I don't like pink."

 
I'm not being holier-than-thou here.   I was awfully picky about my clothes, too.  Still am.  In fact, I look back at holiday pictures and see the same clothes that I wear today..being worn ten years earlier. 

Eh.   We don't--can't afford to even if we wanted to--shower the kids with presents.  But even so...they ask for one large gift, they know exactly what it is before Christmas Day, they get it, we tape them opening it, and another Christmas is over with.     

Meh.  I'm crabby today!!

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9.  Decorations.  They're a lot of work.  But I do enjoy decorating the tree.  I'm not THAT bad.  But...every year it's the same old argument.

Sunday after Thanksgiving:

Me:  "Let's get down the tree."

Roger: "I haven't even digested the turkey yet."

Next weekend:

Me:  "Let's get down the tree."

Roger:  "Maybe."

The weekend after that:

Me:  "Let's get down the tree."

Roger:  (heaves sigh of martyrdom).  "If you INSIST."

Roger loves the tree & Christmas decorations. In fact, I never put up a tree in my own house until we started dating.  Why?  I was going to my parents' house.  My friends were horrified.

Then we got married and Roger wanted a REAL tree.  I had never had one.  I didn't want to kill a tree and vacuum up dead leaves for six months.   I finally convinced him to go with a fake one after one disastrous year with a bad saw and a really uncooperative tree.

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Then there was the year we bought a living tree and lovingly planted it.  That year, Roger was out every July night, watering the thing.  You can still see it at our old house, but it's dead as a doornail.  I still feel bad about that tree.

Getting back to when the decorations go up.....Roger likes to wait. It all goes back to some wacky Catholic Northern thing I think..when, about a million years ago, SANTA brought the tree the night before Christmas.   And then it was lit with candles.  And then it burned down the house.  And Maw and Paw had to get their kerchiefs on and get all the young'uns out of the house, and the apples and peppermint candy canes all got burned up.

My family put 'em up the day after Thanksgiving.  MY WAY IS ALWAYS THE PROPER WAY.   If my husband would only LEARN this, I think OUR MARRIAGE COULD BE SAVED.

No decorations are up as of today at Chez Clueless.

Maybe this week.

10.   The True Meaning Of Christmas.  I'm going to end this on a good note, 'cause I'm too lazy to think of ten nice things about Christmas.

a.  vacation

b.  dollar earrings from Walmart

c.  Jesus got born. 

d.  parties.

Santa obviously needs to bring me some Miss Clairol

Here I am wearing genuine diamond studs from Walmart that Meredith bought with her own money and holding the pair that Madeleine bought with her own money.

That's nice.

And good tidings to you, whatever you celebrate, and to all a good day...and night.