Copyrights reserved by the author. If you are in doubt, please click on 'Copyrights' and read the details.
Want to spread some peace and joy? Then stay home this Christmas. By J. G. Fabiano
It's my favorite time of the year. I am not talking about the holiday season with its festivities and color. I am not talking about the season of peace or the happy feeling we are supposed to get whether we like it or not. I am talking about that time of year when it is no longer necessary to mow the lawn, spread seed and fertilizer, tend to the garden or shovel the driveway. This is the in-between time when outdoor chores simply go away. The rest of the year there is always something that has to be done to keep the house looking respectable. In the spring, when most people are looking forward to warm breezes and sunny days, I am thinking about dragging out my lawn spreader to start the torture of managing the lawn, which means a perpetual fight with dandelions and dog waste. The lawn is not the only chore I have to take care of. I also have to get my garden ready for the growing season, wash the windows clean of all the dirt and grime that a long cold winter puts on them. I also have to drag my patio furniture out from under the deck to see how it survived the winter. It is a time of year that represents nothing but work and blisters to me. I crave that blissful morning when I wake up and see a thick coat of frost on the lawn and know the monster has finally been put to sleep. This time of year also means I no longer have to come up with reasons why I can no longer work outside. This doesn't impress my wife who is constantly trying to remind me that her house work is not seasonal and neither is mine. I tell her I have no control over the weather and remind her that when the snow flies I am the one in the driveway trying to get both our cars out to the road. I also remind her that I am the one who has to drag himself outside with a bag full of bird seed so the birds in our neighborhood will survive the winter. My wife reminds me that this argument has little leverage because the one and only bird feeder we had in our yard blew away before the start of the new millennium. But, there are some problems with this time of year. Right at the top of the list is that I have to go to the mall to buy Christmas gifts for my wife. I am not allowed to buy anyone else a gift. This is an arrangement that my wife and I made many decades ago because my choice of gifts leaves a lot to be desired. My wife buys everybody else's gifts because it stops me from inadvertently offending all of our family and friends. So, begrudgingly, I head out to the stores in search of the perfect gift for my wife, which I usually get wrong. This is also the time of year when we spend money we usually don't have. I am not just talking about presents. I am talking about food budgets that go bust in order to show friends and family proper seasonal hospitality. And I am talking about electricity bills that go through the roof because we have to have more lights then the guy down the road. I am sure that, by now, passenger planes coming in over the Atlantic know this is the time of year when they can check their bearings for Boston Airport by the lights in the Fabiano neighborhood. I also learned a long time ago that, when people have food at Christmas they also must have drinks, so the drinks budget goes in the same direction as the food budget. And, in order to keep everybody happy you have to figure out what everybody likes to drink and have it in the house for them. And, every year I am stuck with a bottle of peppermint schnapps that nobody wants, including me, and I can't remember who the hell I bought it for. Since this is the time of year when people visit us it is also the time when we visit other people, including people we don't like. I keep telling myself this is a time of peace and joy but I don't understand why it means I have to visit people with whom I have absolutely nothing in common and to whom I would not ordinarily say hello. This problem is compounded by the fact that many of the people I am talking about also do not like me. I have often thought that the best way to spread peace and joy during the holidays might be for all of us to stay home instead of going around annoying each other. But no, we accept all the invitations anyway. Walking into their homes is always a bit of a chore for me. My wife is an expert at this and, since everyone likes her and she likes everyone back, I assume this is the reason for her expertise. I, on the other hand, fumble through the greetings because I can't remember anybody's name. For this reason I always make sure my wife and I arrive late so the host and hostess are occupied with other guests. But, sometimes my plan fails and we are among the first to arrive and I have to go through the torture of shaking hands with the host who usually dislikes me so much he tries to crush all my fingers. Then, worst of all, I have to kiss the hostess even though I would rather kiss a dead tortoise. During this exchange of insincere affections I try not to have our bodies meet because that would mean my clothes will be covered with pungent perfumes a dozen wash cycles won't erase. The worst case scenario is when our host has kids. Most of the time they keep to themselves but, every now and then, children will inject themselves into the festivities. Since I am a teacher and I work with children all the time people might think I am comfortable with kids. I am not. I look forward to those times when I am not with kids and I try to conduct my social life so that I will have no contact with kids whatsoever. When I am confronted by small and precocious children who insists on imposing their conversation on me I immediately turn into Scrooge and drive them away, usually in years. Unfortunately that has not stopped any of these people from inviting me back. Those party hosts who have pets present an especially difficult problem during this time of year. There is nothing more annoying then entering a house only to be assaulted by a dog the size of a Shetland pony that is called 'Tiny,' which insists on burying its face in my crotch. Why owners of large dogs allow their pets to roam their homes at will, spreading slobber on the party snacks and ripping the guests' clothes to shreds with their claws, is beyond me. Unless, of course, it's their idea of a deterrent. They can issue an invitation to give the appearance of generosity but when nobody comes because they are afraid of being indecently assaulted by a 110 pound dog they don't have to put up with the nuisance of actually having guests turn up. Dogs are not the only animals that should be confined to the basement during parties. Cats have a tendency to curl up next to me only to leave half their fur deeply embedded in my new sports jacket and slacks. Once I actually had a cat hiss at me but my wife said it was only because I hissed first, which I refused to admit. But there is one comfort to be had at this time of the year; when I get home I don't have to mow the lawn! The End.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
