Merry Stressman!
“It’s already started. I got a huge bucket of popcorn at work today,” said my husband, while schlepping yet another bin of Harry and David Moose Munch from the porch.*
Already started? I don’t know about you, but it seems like this has been going on since Halloween. It’s as if someone said, “Let the feasting begin!” and the forks and knives started flying. And my house is a mess. Random treats are strewn across the kitchen counters, presents in various stages of wrapping have buried the dining room table and cardboard boxes with Styrofoam peanuts are all over the floor. You’d think Santa came in, vomited, then left.
Lately, I tend to have a mini panic attack as soon as I pull the car into the garage, because I know that when I go to check the mail there will be another pile of Christmas cards. It’s like they are taunting me, reminding me what a pathetic procrastinator I am. Christmas cards are probably the greatest source of stress in my household. I’m the writer, therefore it’s my wifely obligation to come up with something brilliant and hilarious and send it out to all of our family and friends. I have the stamps and the cards; I’m just missing brilliant and hilarious.
And then, there’s the photo. I know, I know, I should hire a professional like the Haag's do, but instead I inflict a sort of heinous yearly punishment upon my husband and dog with the requisite self-portrait. The husband is sent to the closet to find a suitable sweater and the dog is taunted with treats while I again try to remember how to work the camera timer. We sit ourselves down, line up the camera, find the right button to push, hold the treat up to the dog and say, “C’mon, girl, sit still.” Then the blinky thing goes off, and bam the photo is taken. We do this 30 more times until a non-offensive family photo with no one blinking, no one sniffing a crotch and no one looking like a gape-mouthed goon presents itself.
And don’t get me started with the Christmas parties. It’s not typically something I look forward to, but that’s another story.
What about you, holidays got you stressed? If not, what’s your secret?
Husband’s Disclaimer: “Don’t make me sound like an ungrateful ass. I’m really appreciative, I love that stuff, I just have no willpower.”
Already started? I don’t know about you, but it seems like this has been going on since Halloween. It’s as if someone said, “Let the feasting begin!” and the forks and knives started flying. And my house is a mess. Random treats are strewn across the kitchen counters, presents in various stages of wrapping have buried the dining room table and cardboard boxes with Styrofoam peanuts are all over the floor. You’d think Santa came in, vomited, then left.
Lately, I tend to have a mini panic attack as soon as I pull the car into the garage, because I know that when I go to check the mail there will be another pile of Christmas cards. It’s like they are taunting me, reminding me what a pathetic procrastinator I am. Christmas cards are probably the greatest source of stress in my household. I’m the writer, therefore it’s my wifely obligation to come up with something brilliant and hilarious and send it out to all of our family and friends. I have the stamps and the cards; I’m just missing brilliant and hilarious.
And then, there’s the photo. I know, I know, I should hire a professional like the Haag's do, but instead I inflict a sort of heinous yearly punishment upon my husband and dog with the requisite self-portrait. The husband is sent to the closet to find a suitable sweater and the dog is taunted with treats while I again try to remember how to work the camera timer. We sit ourselves down, line up the camera, find the right button to push, hold the treat up to the dog and say, “C’mon, girl, sit still.” Then the blinky thing goes off, and bam the photo is taken. We do this 30 more times until a non-offensive family photo with no one blinking, no one sniffing a crotch and no one looking like a gape-mouthed goon presents itself.
And don’t get me started with the Christmas parties. It’s not typically something I look forward to, but that’s another story.
What about you, holidays got you stressed? If not, what’s your secret?
Husband’s Disclaimer: “Don’t make me sound like an ungrateful ass. I’m really appreciative, I love that stuff, I just have no willpower.”
posted by Lisa Snider at 7:35 PM
1 Comments:
What do I do? I try to laugh at all the craziness. When people get upset at the parking lot thing, striving to find the spot close to the door, i stroll by, on foot, and laugh. When the lady in the grocery line gets so mad at the little credit card slider that she shakes and spit-els of frothy saliva fly across the counter to the poor girl standing bewildered with a receipt in her hand, I quietly laugh at the lady, and apologize for her loss of good sense to the register attendant. Mostly, I just remember to be an island of calm. And furthermore, my family and friends already now that they probably wont get cute letters, phone calls might be late, etc. If they were overly concerned about proper etiquette, they wouldn't be my friends. Merry Christmas.
Post a Comment
<< Home