Don’t Cry in Your Eggnog

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I won’t say it…I won’t say it…ok I will…Bah Humbug.

It’s the holidays and if you are having the time of your life, you are in a totally different kind of 1%.

I’m not poo-pooing on the holidays, just the bedlam that ushers it in and sends it on its Merry way.

You know what I mean. Having the family over seems like a good idea in early November. But by the time the tryptophan starts to kick in Thanksgiving evening, the thing you are most grateful for besides spandex is that Aunt Marge is rushing Uncle Fred and his “pull my finger” out the door so she can set up camp in the Wal-Mart parking lot.

Meanwhile while you are clearing the dishes, your brother’s kids are underneath the table feeding turkey bones to the dog and your mother is in a heated debate with your mother-in-law over the length of your new curtains.

High pitched giggles coming from the living room where your father and father-in-law are by now fast asleep on the couch, indicate your 5-year-old daughter and 6-year-old niece are playing beauty parlor on their comatose grandfathers with the couch staining make-up they rummaged from your bathroom. And while your sister and sister-in-law are trying to out do one another with complaints about their husband’s weekend golf outings, the blaring sounds of football and armchair coaching coming from your husband and brother-in-law in the next room is chipping away at your brain like a woodpecker on steroids.

Suddenly the realization that this is only the beginning crosses your fragile psyche. There will be no time for recovery…Christmas is less than a month away.

Now you can either make a b-line straight for the cooking wine or being the right-brained opportunist you are, make the most of the material the universe has put right in front of you.

Man…think of all the juicy morsels of inspiration you were just given.

Imagine the follies that will befall Aunt Marge and Uncle Fred to their stake-out for Black Friday bargains.

What will their conversation be in the car from your house to the Wal-Mart parking lot? A strategy for battle with no option for failure? I see Aunt Marge in fatigues and pink sneakers.

Who will their greatest rivals be?  Their arch enemy’s Gladys and Henry from the 50+ community they live in, who beat them at Bridge every week? I see Uncle Fred sneaking out of his car just before dawn, crawling two parking spaces over and duck taping the doors to Gladys and Henry’s car shut.

Don’t get me started on the in-laws. There is enough material there for volumes upon volumes of work.

My strategy for the holidays…don’t cry in your eggnog.

Take the worst of it, the best of it and all the stuff in between and make it work for you.

Merry Writing

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One response »

  1. It is a good thing that I am not writing this comment on paper because the tear stains would make it unreadable. It is far enough away from the holidays so the tears are from laughter as I read this blog. Writer’s Block must have been a fly on the wall in my home for the holidays because the scene depicted is close to my holiday experience. Except for the names of the players it is my house. As they say, “distance lends enchantment”, and now that the holidays are past I am able to regain my perspective. After reading this blog I have also been inspired to look at my own mishaps and use these real experiences for some of my future writing.

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