I started hearing that song on November 1, from the delightful local station which thought the listening public needed some motivation to get into the retail, I means Christmas, spirit. 2 months? Really? I'm already over it. Let's examine a few concepts of that little musical ditty.
1. Kids jingle-belling and everyone telling you be of good cheer.
I am down to only 2 children in my house in the residential sense. The older two, when they do stop in, do not make a great deal of noise. Becca usually manages to stay home for 26 seconds before finding a social engagement of some sort to which she must Escape, literally and figuratively. And Erik, well, he has been taught not to talk with his mouth full, and he doesn't stop eating from the moment he walks in the door until his departure. General Mills puts on extra shifts just to manufacture enough Honey Nut Cheerios for his extended trips home. Now the youngest two, delightful as they may be, create enough noise to drown out a small political rally--like the Democratic National Convention. Do we really want to suggest adding bells to that??? Are my ears not ringing enough??? With all that festive noise, the first person who tells me to be of good cheer runs the risk of a short left hook to the jaw. I revel in contemplating the solitude of a silent night. That's about as likely as Josh Groan caroling at my door.
2. Parties for hosting, marshmallows for toasting, and caroling out in the snow.
Hosting a party requires time, of which I have little; planning, at which I am completely unskilled; and a clean house. Please. My house has not been clean since the Reagan administration. When I deck the halls I create enough airborn dust to give the effect of new-fallen snow. Very festive. Not that it matters. By mid-September it is already clear that I will not have a free evening until the vernal equinox. I spend much of my holiday time scheduling my shifts driving the kids' taxi to and from events of both social and educational nature. On the off chance that I might scare up an evening for revelry, there will likely be a Martha Stewartesque friend who has gone where I fear to tread and graciously invited me to her soiree--who am I to deprive her of the holiday hostess experience?
Toasting marshmallows requires glowing embers in the fire. A fire requires wood. Wood requires someone, and it is NOT me, to drag logs from the backyard woodpile up the steps and to the wood crib. I dont like marshmallows that much. One could argue that smores cannot be made without toasted marshmallows, but they have always seemed like a waste of a perfectly good bar of chocolate to me. Forget that.
Caroling out in the snow has some merit. Unless of course, it snows. Or is cold. Cold throats don't sing--they croak. Cold carolers just shiver and develop hypothermia. Truly effective caroling requires a flask of a heat-producing adult beverage, taken regularly and with gusto. Then there is the practical side of dealing with snow. I live just south of the Ohio River, where it snows every year and every year the locals are STUNNED that snow is sticking to the ground, often in multiple inches. People would not dream of braving the elements to clear a sidewalk, preferring to let the spring thaw take care of that detail. Carolers risk compound femoral fractures and severe concussions slip-sliding down the sidewalk. Flask-carrying carolers are even more at risk. Of course, those same non-shovelers WILL hop into their 1978 VW Rabbits to make their way to the grcery at 3 MPH to secure enough bread, goetta and beer to make it to Independence Day. Go figure.
3. Mistletoeing, and hearts glowing when loved ones are near.
Mistletoe? Two words: infection control. Good Lord, people, have you not heard of Influenza? Rhinovirus? Noravirus? Mononucleosis? You go right on mistletoeing, my friends. It is job security for me. But I will bypass the poison plant, take my vitamins, and keep my flask to myself, thankyouverymuch.
That takes us to those loved ones. We all love family gatherings at the holidays. No, really--we do. At no other time of year is familial dysfunction more fun!!! Who's going where, and with whom, and for how long? Who will come? Who will stay? Who wont come if someone else comes? Who wont go home at all? How can we be in 3 different places at the same time? Whose turn is it this year? How long before the kids melt down? How long before the adults melt down? So many traditions to uphold! It boggles the mind. Where is that flask I had at the caroling party?
I admit--I really do love the holidays. But let's be realistic about expectations. Expecting them to be the most wonderful time of the year is like expecting a Hippopotamus for Christmas. There's an annoying song about that, too. Let the wild rumpus start!!!!
