‘Twas the night of Christmas Day
Or was it the night before Boxing Day
That’s a label I’ve never understood.
Is it a day to put presents back in boxes and return them to the store?
Or prepare them for eventually regifting?
Or is it the day when families enter the ring in big baggy trunks and padded gloved and settle all family squabbles. With, of course strict adherence to the rules set out by the Marquis of Queensberry. Actually, I almost typed, “Marquis of Doonesbury”. That could be used if you want to avoid physical contact and you just want to punish your loved ones with bon mots, puns, and sophisticated political satire.
But I’m getting behind myself.
Speaking of behind of myself, did you hear about the butcher in our area who is going out of business? He backed into his meat-grinder and got a little behind in his orders. (ba-da-fish)
Trusting Santa visited your home and was wearing a mask over his beard. Also that he stayed a safe distance from everyone all snug in the beds. Also trust he used the hand sanitizers placed strategically all over the house. Also hope the flue in the chimney was open. Santa has been known to throw a hissy fit when he gets stuck in chimneys. Thank goodness that over the years he has learned to add Jiffy-Lube and WD-40 to his sack of toys. Saved his peameal bacon (we’re in Canada after all) more that once.
It may be too late, but perhaps best practices for gift opening is to wait 2 weeks (quarantinely speaking). Too late? Ah well, there’s be a vaccine along to save the day soon enough. Or we hope…sooon…..enough.
But in the meantime, let us all celebrate Christmas and be grateful for the GREAT and POWERFUL CLAUS. (That was a movie reference for the younger set). In a world in disarray, he (Santa) remains steady and dedicated to the job of doling out joy and happiness. How he manages to be in shopping malls and the North Pole and still finds time to lay some pretty cool stuff on us..on time…every year….is one of the greatest mysteries. And joy he surely brings, in generous amounts. And ours is not to question why or how.
Ours is just to sing seasonal songs with abandon. Drink the egg nog (not the Kool-aid) and muster as much optimism and gratitude as we can. Love our families to the extreme, reminisce a little, watch your favourite Christmas/Seasonal Movie. (Unless it’s “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” in which case, maybe wait for the young ones to turn in).
We have a white Christmas here in Toronto this year. Which looks beautiful while you are sitting inside. But once you don the heavy boots, the scratchy scarf, the over-stuffed parka with the hood that doesn’t rotate when you look to the right of left and the broken zipper. Hey, staying warm is more important than seeing, isn’t it. That is, unless you are at a 4 way stop sign.
Merry Christmas to all.