Nothing to See Here — New Writers Welcome December Competition

My Incredibly, Uneventfully Boring Dream Christmas

In my reading yesterday, I stumbled upon a story by KL Simmons in which she describes her imaginary, but perfect Christmas day. Here it is:

It got me thinking about what my perfect Christmas day would look like. Really, there’s not much to say. My perfect Christmas day would be one in which nothing happens. Yeah, you read that right, nothing happens. Of course, that doesn’t make for a good story, so I’d better explain myself.

In years past, the holidays meant two things for me, work and drama. And lots of both. As a young mother with 3 boys, the days leading up to Christmas were filled with finding the perfect presents, hiding them from prying eyes, wrapping them, decorating, preparing food, and on and on.

The day itself started at the crack of dawn (when I could keep the kids in bed long enough to allow the sun to come up). I’d watch as they gleefully tore into their gifts. Then, more work, cleaning up the mess, making a special breakfast, getting the turkey into the oven, prepping the sides. I’d fit in a quick cup of coffee. Then more work, receiving guests, usually friends of my kids coming over to check out the loot.

Sometime in the afternoon, my childrens’ father would show up. He’d admire the tree and what was under it. Then he’d start his “shopping,” asking them for anything they maybe didn’t want or need, socks, deodorant, toiletries, for himself. He’d then take the kids to his place, where he’d inevitably get into an argument with them, his partner, or both. The kids would show back up on my doorstep less than an hour later recounting all the drama they had just experienced.

Then it was turkey time! We’d feast until we were about to burst and then, I’d pile the kids in the car and drag them an hour away to my mother’s place because that’s just what had to be done. I’d end the day completely and utterly exhausted.

My dream Christmas is the polar opposite of what I just described. In it, I don’t end the day exhausted because I don’t do much of anything. There’s no drama because I refuse to allow it. There’s no running around. There’s no “have to,” or “should do.”

It starts on Christmas Eve with myself, my husband and all 3 of my now-adult children and I sitting around, enjoying a few nibbles and a beverage or two. The snow is falling softly outside. Not a storm or anything, just those fluffy, big white flakes that make everything pretty. We chat and just enjoy each others’ company. There’s a lot of laughter.

At exactly midnight, everyone opens one present. Why? Because that’s why. It’s a silly little thing I started with my boys when they were little and although I’m not a huge fan of tradition, I like this one. There aren’t many presents under the tree, to be honest. We’re all hard to buy for because once you become an adult, you tend to buy what you want or need throughout the year. That makes gift buying difficult.

We get around that difficulty by getting each other a few inexpensive gag gifts. There are serious gifts too, but the gag gifts are the most fun. For example, each of my kids has a stocking and each stocking will contain a bottle of bubbles. No, at 31, 29 and 27 they don’t need or want them. And no, they don’t have children. It’s a joke stemming from the time their father bought them nothing but bubbles when they were teenagers because he chose to spend $2000 on a couple of male Bull Mastiff puppies for breeding (you read that right, 2 males, for breeding). He promised he’d “catch them later,” once his ship came in. We call it the IOU Christmas.

And there’ll be something under the tree for my husband and me that’s equally ridiculous. Something to get our goats and make us laugh. What can I say, we’re twisted like that.

After opening the ceremonial 1 gift, we’ll all probably go to bed. And the next morning, Christmas morning, we’ll wake up at … wait for it…whatever time we please. We’ll probably sleep in.

When we do get up, there’s no rush to do anything. No rush to the tree. No rush to put the turkey in the oven. No rush to get breakfast. The only sense of urgency is to get coffee into my body as quickly as humanly possible (but that’s not a holiday thing, that’s a “me” thing).

I’ll spend my day in my jammies, puttering. Yup, just puttering along. If the turkey isn’t in the oven at 10 am, who cares? If we don’t eat until 7 pm, who cares? If I don’t get dressed all day, who cares? Not me. I haven’t invited, nor am I expecting any guests. And I’m not leaving the house. Hell, the phone probably won’t even ring.

The remainder of the presents get opened whenever we feel like it. And we all clean up after ourselves. We’ll spend the bulk of our day doing whatever we feel like doing. For me, that might include reading or even an afternoon nap. Yes, it will definitely include a nap.

And of course, there’ll be lots of eating. We love to eat in my family.

And that pretty much sums it up, my drama free, laid back, lazy, boring, incredibly perfect Christmas. I’d be curious to know what others’ perfect Christmas day would look like — I’m looking at you Jimmy Misner Jr., Lisa Gerard Braun and Carl Parker. :)