So This Is Christmas

My son, Franz (10), and I were talking about Christmas, and vacation, and who’s coming over (everyone who shares our DNA) and if we’re exchanging gifts (fun t-shirts) and am I really going to wear that Sasquatch Santa sweater again (yes). Screen Shot 2014-12-16 at 5.22.09 PM

He seemed to be struggling with something.

Here is our conversation:

ME: What’s the trouble?

FRANZ: It’s just….I don’t know…I…you know…I just…

ME: It’s okay. Take a big breath and just spit it out. Except not literally. Please don’t literally spit. I have a gag reflex.

FRANZ: I know, Ma. Me too. (he takes a deep breath.) Okay…it’s just and I’m really sorry here, but the holidays…It’s like I want to see everyone and my family and I’m so excited but then they get here and I get, I don’t know, annoyed and I don’t want them here, but I do want them here, and then there’s so many people and the house gets all hot and I get uncomfortable and it’s noisy, but, like I want to spend time with everyone cuz it’s only once a year, but I also want space, like A LOT, and everyone sort of bugs me and it’s so unbelievably boring, like I can’t believe how boring it is and it’s something I really wanted but then when it’s happening…I…just…I’m sorta miserable.

(We let the words float around in the ether a bit.)

ME: Yeah. That pretty much sums up Christmas. That’s pretty much exactly how it is.

FRANZ: Really?

ME: Yep.

FRANZ: Huh. I thought it was just me.


I wanted to add: “Why do you think there’s so much drinking during the holidays? It’s not just to celebrate, it’s because we need to be drunk in order to figure out a way to hang out with our families. It’s called coping.” But I didn’t actually SAY that, because this was a ‘teachable moment’ and all.

Christmas. Bring it. Me and my Sasquatch sweater are ready.