Christmas isn’t my favorite holiday, but it ranks up there near the top of the list. Some years I catch the spirit months in advance. Other years, like this one, I’m late getting into the swing of things. (Late by my standards. Normally I catch it by Thanksgiving if not beforehand.)
But this year we were on the road and then I’ve been battling some cold/flu bug for the last several weeks. Haven’t had much time or energy to get decorations up, cookie platters planned (I give them to neighbors and friends), or our family Christmas letter written. (Yikes! Cards are really late this year. I’m usually addressing them and mailing them this week. I haven’t even started any of that yet!)
However, today for the first time in a long time I was feeling pretty good and the Christmas spirit finally had a chance to catch hold. While Wayne commandeered my office for a conference call, I decided it was time to start decorating.
I tuned in to 92.9, the local station that’s playing all holiday music all the time, and hummed up a storm while I wrapped garland around the banisters, put up wreaths, and hung stockings.
I was having a merry old time until Wayne, a.k.a. Scrooge, finished his call.
“Oh no. She’s got the Christmas music playing. I guess this means I have to get the Christmas tree down.”
That’s his big contribution to the holiday festivities in our house.
After 17 years of living together I know Wayne doesn’t “do” Christmas. He celebrates it to some extent, but as far as “getting in the spirit” and decorating and stuff? That’s not his Santa bag, baby. He thinks it’s a waste of time and he’ll grumble up a storm if I try to get too fancy with decorations that need even a fraction of his time. (Which means anything that might require him and a ladder –either holding it for me or him getting up on it.)
Getting the Christmas tree out of the attic is the one thing he’ll do without me asking and without too much fuss. But he doesn’t appreciate participating any more than that.
For instance, tomorrow I plan to put the outside lights up. He won’t help.
This weekend I hope to draft our annual Christmas letter. I try to craft a cheery, heartfelt epistle but he always scoffs that it’s too sweet and suggests I make it more shocking. (He thinks that would be funny.)
And let’s not even get into the money side of Christmas. If I comment that I like a certain decoration his pat answers is, “You don’t need it.”
Of course I don’t need whatever it might be. I’d just like to have it to spread more cheer.
And gifts? I don’t bother taking him with me to do any of the shopping anymore. Even though I set a budget and for the most part stick to it, he questions every expenditure and feels I’m way too generous.
The only time he never complains is Christmas morning when it’s his turn to unwrap presents!
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