Another Christmas gone by. I’m so relieved. Not that I’m a bah humbug person and not that I don’t have at least a few Christmas memories that I treasure, but there are a whole bunch of Christmases that I would just like to forget (and for some no good reason, I can’t.) I try to blame some of my unpleasant memories on the month of December. In our family, December is a lousy month. If I’m headed for thirty days of aggravation, it’s going to be in December. Bad things always happen in December, usually just in time for the holiday season. You know, like….
“Hey Howard, the water in the toilet won’t go down and the tide is rising…”
“Then don’t flush!”
“Why not?”
“The septic tank is full.”
Then there’s the forever holiday trip. We do an annual drive to Georgia to spend the holidays with family:
“How many more miles?” I ask.
“500 miles.” he replies.
He sounds like an old Peter, Paul, and Mary song. “Nahh, “ I tell him.. “ You’ve got to be kidding!”
Then he says;” Yup! 500 miles, 8 pit stops, and 8 more dirty bathrooms.”
I so want to stay home.
We get to Georgia. I start sneezing. Then I spend the next four days in the guestroom with a cold or worse yet, the flu. If I had been lucky, I would have gotten sick before we left and I could just suffer there in my own bed at home. I blew and blew. I should have had a bucket for all that flu goo. The end of my nose was beginning to look like raw diaper rash. “Howard, go to the store. I need more Kleenex,” I gasped.
“Already?”
“And get me something for my hamburger nose!”
So what does he come back with? A & D diaper rash ointment. All I can smell is baby butt.
And then there was this year. “Howard, the tree is tilting. It’s not straight.”
“Finish it and we’ll straighten it later.”
I did finish it, and guess what, we didn’t straighten it. We left it that way, listing to port for the entire holiday season. We called it the leaning bower of Treeza.
