Personal

Bah. Humbug.

I’ve worked every Christmas Day since 2008.

Because Christmas is just a regular work day for me, it’s hard getting into the “spirit” of things.

Last night, I drove my mom to church and she spent the seven minute ride reminiscing about Christmases past:

Allyuh would be so excited. You would stay up so late waiting for Santa. We hid the presents at your grandmother’s and your father had to drive to the Bronx to pick them up at four o’clock in the morning after you went to sleep. And you would gasp when you saw all those presents under the tree. Christmas used to be so much fun. Those were the days.

Christmas now means lots and lots of cleaning. Changing the curtains, beating the rugs outside in the cold. Preparing the sorrel and ginger beer and ponche a creme. Many [failed] attempts at baking my Grams’ bread. My sister and I tell each other what we want and agonize over what to get our mother. This year she dropped the hint that she wanted a new sound system to replace the radio/double tape deck/3 disc player she’s had since I was in high school. The problem is, she wants the same exact thing, and where does one find a double tape deck these days? My sister suggested getting her a bluetooth speaker since Marvs has an iPhone now. I knew that wouldn’t work because she does NOT know how to use her iPhone other than to make phone calls and to send the occasional text, and that was all she had the energy to learn. What do you get a person like this?  A gift certificate for spa services. Nice and simple. We help her decorate the tree and season the turkey breast, slice up the ham my uncle sends from Texas every year, wash and dry all of the china and replace it neatly in her breakfront. It’s not Christmas until the entire house is spotless.

And of course, I get up and go to work.  By the time I get home, the presents have been opened, dinner is done, and the leftovers are already packed away–Marvs likes to invite a Nigerian family visiting her church to dinner. She also likes to eat early. So I make myself a plate and eat in my room alone until my sister wakes up (after being on call) or comes home from visiting her boyfriend’s family.

Christmas just isn’t so magical anymore.

Anyway. I hope all five of you who read this enjoy your day. Save me a slice a pie or something.

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4 thoughts on “Bah. Humbug.

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