Christmas Time

A close friend of mine got the best Christmas gift he could ever hope for.

“Would you like to see her?” he asked, rushing to pull up a photo on the computer.

“Her?  That suggests it’s either a boat, plane, or something living,” I responded.

“It’s the best kind of her,” he said and turned his monitor around so I could see a pretty adolescent girl with a striking resemblance to his 15 year old daughter.  He explained that eighteen years ago he gave up a daughter for adoption, and a week ago his wife received a call from her.  His eyes were tearing up as he talked about the reunion and the similarities between her and his 15 year old.

I’ve never really been too crazy about Christmas, but it is a special time of year.  Customers are more generous, people beam with happiness as if they are deranged over nothing in particular, and the snow that people bitch about the rest of the year suddenly becomes this magical, welcome gift, like powdered sugar on a favorite dessert.

I think I would like Christmas a lot more if no one ever got me a gift, so that I didn’t feel obligated to get them a gift.  I don’t like Christmas shopping because there is a time crunch to buy the perfect gift, and I never make that deadline.  Anything less than the perfect gift is simply unacceptable.  I mean really, what’s the point in giving gift cards?  I love buying small gifts for people to say I am thinking about them, but getting a gift for every person I care about drains my finances, and when people are buying gift cards for each other, I feel like it’s just money better spent elsewhere.

Well, this Grinch is going to crawl back in her cave now.  I hope every one truly does have a happy holiday season though, no matter what you celebrate.


About michelletherobot

I'm a little bit emotional and a lot a bit strange. In 30 years I'll be a crazy cat lady, but for now I'm a twenty-two year old going to school, working two jobs, and trying to get to a better place.
This entry was posted in Holidays. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s