I also love it because it looks so seasonal, with it's candy cane handle and cheery red color. In fact, the mug has made me long for seasonal stuff. I want to smell cinnamon and spices. I want peppermint and roast turkey. I'd like snow on the windowsills and a fire in the hearth. I want skiing, long walks with hot chocolate at the end of them, shopping in New Hope, PA in those tiny little gifty boutiques, receiving fat letters in the post and sending huge packages to those who live overseas.
I know that in a few weeks I'll be tired of rolling out cookie dough for hours, so long that my back goes into strike mode. I'll be sick of the mall crowds and the search for that One Toy that everybody wants to get for their kid, including those Modern Scrooge Viruses: grownups who go and buy up the wanted toys and sell them on eBay for premium prices. Shame on them!
(I'm talking to you, Mr. Suit ahead of me in line with ten identical Monster High dolls in your shopping cart. I am So Onto You.)
|OK, you guys are cool. Carry on.|
I'll be beyond sick of the song "All I Want for Christmas is my Two Front Teeth." I'll be tired of wrapping after my tenth paper cut. I'll be sick of cards after writing out my one hundredth Have a Wonderful Holiday. Seasonal Overload - it's coming. It always does.
At the end of it all, that Day will arrive. Kid is 8, so she's still into the whole Schmebang - the cookies, the milk, the stocking, the gifts. She'll wake up and come into our room (she always has to wake us up first, I don't know why) and we'll hear her feet pound down the stairs. There'll be a pause, a moment of "Oh! My! Goodness!" and the feet will pound back up the stairs.
At that point, Seasonal Overload will somehow return to Seasonal Magic again. We'll eat Pizza Freets, our traditional breakfast, made by Poppy at the deep fryer. I'll have a humungo plate of cookies out, and of course the Big Sipper will be filled with tea. Kid's uncle will come over to watch her unwrap gifts. We'll have roast chicken and pasta (hey, we're Italian) for dinner.
|Still in PJ's. Nothing beats that - NOTHING.|
I'll enjoy every single second because as Kid hurtles inevitably towards the age of 9, 10, and teen years, the season will change. The gifts will become far smaller and much more expensive (phone, laptop, clothing store gift cards.) They'll be less fun to buy and wrap. I'm dreadfully afraid those pounding feet going up and down the stairs might just disappear.
As Kid turns into Teen my husband and I might be the ones waking her skinny buns up.
And so I'll do my best to love every little moment, even the Mr. Suit guy with the ten Monster High dolls. Yup, even him.