My mom called to ask if we were coming for Christmas and I was like, “I think so but Victor has the flu so can I let you know next week?” and she was like, “Well…Christmas is this weekend?” and then I may have passed out and screamed involuntarily a little. Then I went online and canceled the Christmas crackers I’d ordered to be delivered next week and also I scrawled “JESUS. LOOK AT A CALENDAR. YOU ARE A GROWN-UP” on my arm.
Then I felt very guilty that I still haven’t put up the tree but in my defense I’m very lazy and also a terrible person. But I did buy an electric train to go around the tree that we don’t currently have and I spent an hour yesterday playing trains with my child because, hi, I’M SEVEN. All of this to say that if you are also unprepared for the holiday I FEEL YOU and also I’m high-fiving you in spirit because while other people are making platters of Christmas cookies and gingerbread villages I’m not even sure what day it is. And that’s fine. Fine-ish.
(Spellcheck just tried to change “Fine-ish” to “fiendish”. Thanks, spellcheck. I wasn’t feeling bad enough already.)
In other words, this Christmas we are winging it even more than usual and we might end up having Christmas dinner at the gas station but we will be doing it with verve and love and laughter and maybe hot dogs and none of us will be telling Victor “WE TOLD YOU TO GET A FLU SHOT WHEN WE GOT ONE” because that’s his present. And it’s going to be great. Honestly. As I was once told, whether there’s a tree or presents or a roast beast to carve, Christmas will come and it will be lovely. I hope yours (or whatever you celebrate) is lovely too, no matter what it looks like.
PS. No, seriously. It’s this weekend. I know. I was shocked too.