A bit of Christmas Cynicism

Christmas. Again. Great. Honestly I find it difficult to get excited. It’s the same every year. I put on too much weight and I spend too much money. Before you know it here comes the January bill tapping on your shoulder and letting you know how irresponsible you were with your credit card. I am completely aware of the connotations of this opinion but ‘BAH HUMBUG’ has never been my saying. I can understand the pro’s, it’s an excuse to see your family and friends, send out a piece of card with a greeting on which will clutter your house until you sneak them into the bin feeling bad towards the sender.
I mean, Christmas dinner is cracking, but why can we only have a dinner so good at Christmas? It makes no logical sense to me. Although Christmas dinner’s appreciation does depend on the cook. Being one who is afflicted with the task of producing the mass of food, which all very inconveniently takes different times to cook at different temperatures, completely disregarding the fact the each home usually consists of a singular oven. It becomes somewhat of a rather stressful event. Leaving not only your Christmas Eve with your arms elbow deep inside a turkey. Your Christmas morning wrapping sausages in bacon which you can almost guarantee will not stay wrapped and your bacon will burn whilst the sausages stay happily raw and inedible. Although it pains me to say it, when all is done and you have your fingers crossed with not giving anybody food poisoning, your dinner comes almost to waste. All the sweets and chocolate that has been consumed in the morning has filled your diners up to such an extent where they can only manage a small plate of food, your effort seems to be completely wasted.
Opening presents is always a good one; nobody can deny that they love a good present. But there you go. The big point of present opening, a good present. Strangely that botched together knitted scarf that your Gran insists on making you every year, because everybody should be toasty warm in winter, does not fall into this category. Yet you wear the scarf all day even though you feel like you’ve wandered into the Sahara you are over heating that much. You say thank-you and that you’re sure it will come in useful, even though you know that the moment she’s gone home that scarf is getting thrown so far into the back of your wardrobe it will never be seen again. Hopefully.
I suppose, decorating is alright. I wouldn’t go as far as saying that it’s fun. It’s the people that take it too seriously that ruin it. When every little bit of tinsel, which quite frankly is never going to look anything but tacky, has to be in exactly the right place. But in our house hold it’s always been a bit of botched together job, with the bottom of the tree extremely condensed with decoration as those who are somewhat vertically challenged can’t reach that high. On the top a mixture of stars and angles made over the years by not so creative children.
When you look at the whole affair and have a good think. If we split Christmas over a series of months, granted you might get a little bored of constantly smiling and the flashing lights may begin to give you a permanent headache. It would be more financially viable though. I mean it was certainly tried, spreading Christmas out over a twelve day period, but if you have to go back to work. Your spirit is somewhat ruined. And let’s face it, that doesn’t really affect the billing process.

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