Ahhhh. Winter break.
My house looks like an audition tape for Hoarders.
I can’t remember the last time Junior showered.
Missy’s room smells like hamster turds.
Leftovers are still in the fridge from Christmas Eve.
Tom and I have the week off and haven’t worked on one project around the house.
I couldn’t be happier.
Apparently, homework, cleaning, driving, games, work, meals, grocery shopping, errands, laundry, chores and every day life make me very crabby and cause me to nag. My family loves the stinky, lazy sloth who watches marathons of Storage Wars and The Next Cake Boss while in and out of consciousness. I’m sure all hell will break loose on Monday when I can’t fit into any real clothes for work and have to pack a moldy cheese ball for lunch.
Making Christmas Happen is exhausting. But this year, it was well worth it.
As you might recall, I am married to a knock-off of Cam from Modern Family.
Tom’s impersonation is dead-on and maybe he secretly wishes that I was Mitchell, but he can work all that out in therapy. He mentioned that he wanted a “Cam shirt” (the one with the reversible cuffs), but it was $200.
I was on a mission. I found a couple flashy oxfords at TJ Maxx and asked my tailor if she could line the inside with fabric. She seemed totally confused, but agreed to the project if I got her everything the following morning. I dragged poor Missy to the fabric store past her bedtime. She picked out two sassy coordinating patterns then passed out on the car ride home. Total cost: $32/shirt!
In the meantime, my friend Gigi offered to pass on her daughter’s regulation size hockey net to Junior. Tom ran out to their house, disassembled most of it, threw it in the van and hid it in the garage for Junior’s Wow Gift. On the morning of Christmas Eve, Tom started to put together the net while the kids were occupied in the basement. Inside, I was wrapping, cooking, cleaning, organizing and yelling. Occasionally, I would peek outside to see what the hell was taking him so long to get the net together.
Our next door neighbors were thinking the same thing. Their kitchen table provided front row seats to show and the four-year old granddaughter was rooting Tom on.
I step out in my PJs to see how I can help. There aren’t any instructions, so I search the manufacturer online and still can’t find anything. I print picture and head back out. After another half hour, I ask him to run down to our neighbor’s at the end of the block and look at their net with his photographic memory. He returns and we fumble around some more.
Finally, we just scoop up all of the parts and parade down our block (I am still in my PJs) to our neighbor’s to use their net as the template. They are not home or pretend not to be. We put the net together and the final poles don’t line up. We take apart the front and start over. It’s at this point that Tom realizes that he has dog crap on his hands, on the side of the net and all over his shoes. We wrestle with the last piece and it refuses to click into place. We carry it back to the garage, wrap it in duct tape and secure the rest of the net.
Total time: 1.5 hours. Longer than an entire hockey game.
Were the efforts worth it? Absolutely!
Cam was blown away by his custom-tailored, one-of-a-kind shirts and announced that it’s his new signature look.
Junior just beamed when we unveiled the stinky goal. The entire family — including my cute parents — played street hockey on Christmas day.
Flamboyant shirts, poop-covered presents and chasing relatives with large sticks are not found in Norman Rockwell paintings.
But it is picture perfect to me.
Did any gifts put you into a frenzy this year?