Tell Santa what you want for Christmas

The holidays are magical; they always manage to bring out the most anxious, stressed, impatient sides of our selves. Holiday spirit becomes more like holiday aggression, and the pressure to find the perfect gifts, buy enough gifts, rewrap the regifted gifts can easily send us over the edge. And our household is not immune to this.

As Hal and I discussed what we each wanted for Christmas, we came to a dead end for the most part. We have a lot of stuff and to use the holidays as an excuse to accumulate more stuff just doesn’t seem as appealing. However, I do have an idea brewing that may make Hal’s holiday a little more fun than usual (which has me excited at the prospect of this), but the mere mention of this sent him into stress mode like I’ve never seen him. He actually appeared to get aggravated that I was brainstorming thoughtful gift ideas FOR HIM. His exasperation, Hal explained, was more due to the pressure he was suddenly feeling to be equally thoughtful in his gift-giving, a pressure I can understand. I told him that I would be happy with whatever he got me, which I sincerely meant, but he was unconvinced.

Hal: I just don’t want it to end up like my first Christmas living in Tomkins Cove as a kid.

I’m immediately picturing poor Ralphie from A Christmas Story dressed in the bunny suit praying for that Red Rider air rifle. But as Hal explained, it was more a situation of ‘procrastination is the thief of time’ (and good gifts, apparently).

A brief anecdotal moment compliments of Hal:
The first year we lived in Tomkins Cove, little Hal apparently waited too long to ask Santa for what he wanted so by the time I did, my parents had already gotten me stuff I didn’t ask for. When I opened them on Christmas, I thought Santa made a mistake and dropped the wrong presents at our house. So I wrapped them all back up again and waited for my real presents to come. I was really disappointed when my real presents obviously never showed up. And I’m sure the whole time my parents were like, “What the hell, Hal?” So I don’t want either of us to feel that way because we never asked Santa for what we really want.

So a list was made for Santa Hal in hopes of relieving some stress while attempting to capture more of that holiday spirit. But now after thinking about 9-year old Ralphie, it kind of makes me want to ask for a set of cozy footie pajamas, sans bunny ears.