I hate Christmas. Every year it comes around like that dog you gave some food to once and it just keeps nudging you for more. I really hate the holiday with a passion. I wish I could move to an island for December and live in a hut and not have to deal with picking out a tree, untangling lights, wrapping gifts and giving them away. I also don’t want to hear carolers, see any light displays and vacuum pine needles after I take the tree out.
Now, I’m going to list my five reasons that I hate Christmas:
- Giving my parents gifts– My parents are pretty decent people. But when you reach a certain age, you have everything, you’have seen everything and you have done everything. So, it’s like, “What can I get that will blow their mind?” I try to double team with my sisters about what we can get them-there’s one covert sister, she finds out the stuff and tells us. And, it’s usually wrong. I reach the point where I call and ask them myself and cringe at their response, “I’ll take anything you want to give me.” What I hear is, “No matter what loser type gift you give me, I’ll say that it’s nice and usually put it in the attic.”
Guess what, now they get gift certificates.
- Receiving gifts- One day, I was walking around Target with my kids. I was just killing time; so we played the “What if mommy had infinity million dollars” game where we pick out things we want. I saw a really cute item. It was on sale for $4. I thought that if I had $4, I’d get it. It was cute and small-nothing extravagant. When I went back a week later (I had a lot of free time), it was marked even lower-closer to $1.97. Oh yeah, I should get this now, if only this lint in my pocket was money. Christmas day and we’re opening presents and I get this small wrapped gift. It has a familiar feel to it. I know what it is before I open it. It’s the $1.97 item I saw at Target.
Now, the person who gave this to me will remain nameless but I was shocked (after I spent a sufficient amount above $1.97 for their gift).
“Do you like it?” the person asked.
“Oh, I love it,” I said, dripping in sarcasm, “I have the perfect spot.”
- Divorced parents-I’m a child of divorce. Sometimes my parents can be so nitpicky over the holidays, I just want to try to split myself in half, to make each of them happy. I remember once my father told me down to the millisecond how much time we’d spent with him the year before. (It went something like, “You’ve spent eight hours and fifty six minutes at your mothers’ house. I was the recipient of forty five minutes.”) I was like, “What?” and left speechless.
Of course, my sisters and I got together and bitched about this bizarre time keeping and spending system like there was no tomorrow. It’s not like we did this crap on purpose but nevertheless, it’s annoying.
This is why I want the island. I don’t have to worry about splitting myself in half.
- Toys! Toys! Toys! – Every freaking year, it’s “I want this!” or “I want that” or “Mom-look at this, it’s so nice, I need it!” It’s enough to make you rip your hair out by the roots and find the people that make these commercials and strangle them. I know they are doing their job making that Barbie pool look so cool and inviting or kids laughing so hard at the dog that shits out balls; but I despise them, nonetheless. I look around and see all the other toys my kid hasn’t played with-the dust all over it and at all the Barbie packs that aren’t even open.
“Why should I get this for you?”
“Because I don’t have it.”
“Not good enough.”
“It’s newer than the one I have.”
“But you don’t play with the one you have.”
Runs and gets toy, “Look, I’m playing now!”
And the final reason I hate Christmas is…
- Jesus was born in the summer-based on research. Google it.
Contributor: Tracy Cross Lucas