why I hate this holiday, #289748932528952

shadeshaman's picture

For the past 5-6 years, Hexmass has consisted of me working hella extra hours (housecleaning picks up between Turkey day and and Bloated Excess day) and getting exhausted, being the only one who does ANY Hexmass decorating--puttin up the tree, stringing the muthafuckin' lights, making cookies, stringing popcorn n cranberries, shoving fucking cloves into unsuspecting oranges, etc. I am also the only one who buys gifts in my house--even the gifts that my kids have gotten are ones that I paid for. And on the unpaid day off that I get (whoot! Yay me!), I spend the morning cooking food that only I eat, and then I end up spending more money taking kids out for food. In the end, any extra money I might make busting ass for the previous month is pissed away on a bunch of garbage and poop. And then I get to clean up all the fucking wrapping paper and to take down the decorations and tree by myself.
Not so this year. Business was heavy, and that's okay, cuz that's the nature of what I do. I have the day off today, but it's Sunday, and I wouldn't be working anyway. No goddamned tree, no fucking cookies, no shitty garlands. I made the mistake of buying some mulling spices and putting them in the pot of water that I keep on top of the heater to keep the house from being bone-dry, and T just wrinkled her nose and kicked it out of the way while she stood over the heater. Fine. Fuck it. I spent almost as much money as I would have on gifts, taking her to the Steinhart Aquarium in Golden Gate park yesterday. I'm not even bothering to make breakfast. I'm waiting until she wakes up, then she's calling L-dawg (who wandered over to our house last night as we were getting home from The City) and we're going for brunch at a diner we go to all the time--we know it's open today.
So, me and T are watching some reality show last night about wedding dresses (her current obsession), and we decide to share the tiny bit of presents that we got each other--which was fine. BTW, before L-Dawg moved out, I splurged and got a bunch of rolls of new, fancy gift-wrap, thinking I would have a full house come Xmas. Did T wrap her present for me? No, it came in a Target bag. Not that I personally care, but.... after the sharing of gifts, as we are listening to the Steve Martin "Let's Get Small" CD (one of three I got for her--she's interested in doing comedy, and I say it's a good idea to study The Masters) she says in her most entitled teenager hair-ball clearing sigh of a voice, "Mom, do you think next year 'we' (my emphasis) can go back to having a normal Chr*stmas?"


shadeshaman's picture

I know. What the fuck? Why do I have to do all the crap to make the day "special"? When I hear people talking about how the day is about "family", what they really mean is it's about their mother working her ass off while everyone else gets to sit around enjoying the warm fire and football. Yippie. Another day for moms to work for free and to be invisible.

"Mediocrity knows nothing higher than itself; but talent instantly recognizes genius"--Sir Arthur Conan Doyle