Well, it's Christmas Eve, and I don't know how much time I'll have to post, with the eggnog and the wrapping paper and the jingly bells flying all 'round. Family duties, you understand. So I thought I'd bring in a guest poster, to keep you entertained for the day, while I flit to and fro.
So, Christmas is the best time of the year! I remember when 'Old Janet' was little, too, and we were so excited about Christmas together! We would always help put the Christmas tree up...that's when you knew it was almost Santa time. Of course, Mommy always says that we didn't really 'help'...we would hang an ornament, and then break a couple, and try to stuff tinsel up the dog's butt, and Mommy would have to give us a 'time out'. I don't really remember all of that, but I'm pretty sure the dog would have been happier with tinsel up her butt. Everybody needs a little Christmas spirit...even the dog.
The hardest part about Christmas was always getting to sleep. I'd go to bed around ten or eleven, but I'd lay awake for a while, listening for hoof-steps on the roof. I never heard any. Finally, though, I'd get to sleep, and dream of all the cool presents that I was gonna get. I didn't ever dream of 'sugar plums', 'cause I don't know what those are. Everybody always talks about 'visions of sugar plums', but I've never seen one of the things. And what's so exciting about plums, anyway? It's not even a good fruit! Maybe 'sugar oranges', or 'sugar strawberries' I could see, but 'sugar plums'? I never did get that.
Then, at five in the morning or so, I'd wake up, and get Mommy and Daddy to go open presents. I'd drag them downstairs to the tree, and we'd see what Santa brought. It would always be fun...there'd be toys, and games, and sports equipment. Santa wasn't so good with the stuff that needed to be put together, though. My metal toys that read 'some assembly required' on the box were usually bent, and my bicycles would have grease, or blood, or Santa sweat all over them. I always thought it was weird that Daddy would have a bandage or bruise or sling on Christmas morning, too.
I couldn't find a real guest poster on Christmas, and on such short notice, so I've decided to try something radical. Just this once, because it's Christmas, I'm going to let my inner child tell you what she thinks of the holiday season. Unfettered, unadulterated, and no holds barred.
I hope you enjoy this look at Christmas through the eyes of my younger, more immature self.
____________________________________________________________Hi. My name is Janet. I'm firty eight years old. Okay, not really. I live inside another Janet, and she's thirty eight. But I never got older than nine or ten years old. Mommy says that's because I didn't eat my vegetables.
We would spend all morning playing with our new toys while Daddy napped on the couch. Followed by a HUGE feast and then bed.
Anyway, that's how Christmas used to go, back in the good old days, when me and 'Old Janet' were about the same age...but things change. Now we don't leave anything for Santa to eat, or get up early to open presents, or get much of anything but 'practical' gifts. 'Old Janet' seems to like curling irons and new clothes but what good are those things to me? Gimme some candy, or a board game, or Barbies. Where's the good stuff these days?
So, that's my Christmas story. I hope your holiday turns out well this year...no matter what you celebrate. Whatever it is, I hope you get just what you want. Just try and save room to wish for something for your inner child, too. Merry Christmas!