So long, Christmas

7 Jan

That’s it. Christmas is over. All of the decorations are put away. And the house looks very bare. Even if it has been scrubbed to within an inch of its life (the in-laws are coming), the final inch “making it out alive” because a small boy is mortally afraid of the hoover. A dirty floor is a small price to pay for his peace of mind. Maybe Daddy will do it when he comes in.

Am I the only one who feels lonely when the tree comes down? Disliking the bare spot in the living room. Missing the colouredy lights. Or trying (and failing) to find a spot for the new toys, so that they don’t take over the whole house. From next year there will be a box of toys going to Goodwill (or somewhere like that) as soon as the tree goes up. Why didn’t that happen this year? Because I’m more sentimental than I care to admit and wouldn’t get rid of the “baby” toys. Next year though, next year, I will be over it. All of the singing and dancing coloured plastic? Out the door! Another thing to be instituted next year, thank you letters to Santa. They’ll be left on the tree the night before it comes down for Santa to come and collect – he’s watching all year round, you know! And you can’t get a big pile of presents without saying thank you.

This year, when the decorations came down, so did those “cards” people send that are actually pictures of themselves and their families that they can’t even be bothered to sign. No longer will you be sitting on the fridge year round annoying me, smiley faces of people I’ve never even met. Maybe I’ll keep them and reciprocate with “look how happy we are” pictures next year. Or maybe I’ll leave them off the Christmas card list altogether.

Right, less ranting, more tidying.

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