Those pesky fall holidays are out of the way. Now it's time to break out the 6-foot-tall plastic Santa and trip your fellow man to get to the last LeapFrog toy. Ah, the holidays.
We kicked off the season with Black Friday, when everyone gets to spend time with their families except the retail workers (or hospital staff, police officers, firefighters, pilots and a bunch of other people that are used to shift work). One cashier told me she had to work midnight to 6 a.m. stocking shelves then come back at noon for another eight-hour shift. Ah, the holidays.
I was not anywhere near Dulles Town Center on Friday, since I'd rather stick a needle in my eye than join in that psychotic mess. No, I was one of the crazies at Wegmans on the day before Thanksgiving. Piling my cart with organic collard greens I noticed another black woman rushing over. Like a mother nabbing a half-priced Cabbage Patch Kid, I grabbed that last bunch of greens and scurried away, smiling at her angry glare. Dinner was good. Ah, the holidays.
My family happily decorated our Christmas tree this past weekend. A friend scoffed at her mother-in-law's repeated gifts of Christmas ornaments, garlands and statues of baby Jesus. Why the Grinch attitude? My friend is Jewish and her husband is an atheist. The kicker is they don't even know which of them the mother-in-law is trying to annoy. Ah, the holidays.
Crazy shoppers, awful work schedules, inconsiderate family ... the holidays are back. My son arrived home from daycare last night. He ran into the living room screaming, "Mommy, Mommy! The Christmas lights! You see the Christmas lights? Look! And, the Christmas tree! Wow!" He ran over and gave me a huge hug before pulling me to the tree ... ah, the holidays.