Christmas Eve started out innocently enough with each of us opening one present. The big kids who have their own lives and homes were fair warned that this year was a gift card sort of year because neither myself nor Mister really wanted to bother with all of the shopping and wrapping.
The three humans that inhabit our home and two very lazy dogs were pretty content on Christmas Eve.
One present.
Then just one more.
"Fine, let's open them all and go to breakfast in the morning instead of opening gifts."
I'm a huge fan of spontaneity. As I age, more and more I despise tradition. How boring is it to celebrate the same holiday the same way year after year? Guess what, we opened everyone of those presents before 6PM on Christmas Eve and it's a good thing.
The next morning, I made good on my promise of hauling my butt out of bed and going to breakfast. I felt a little rough. Let me tell you guys something, there was something incredibly wonderful about being surrounded by total strangers on Christmas Day. Sure, nothing was open for breakfast except for a truck stop. A truck stop filled with families and people making their way across the state to their loved ones or heading home. The hustle bustle and a kindred spirit among the echoes could be heard. The food was awful. A buffet of awful. The coffee was hot and sort of delicious. I still felt rough.
Over the next 24 hours we had company pop in and out but, this old girl was sick.
That little blue jar of vaporub is keeping me alive. Without it, I'm certain the influenza and that truck stop food would have killed me by now. I can never remember if we are suppose to feed a fever or starve it. My symptoms are a fever, achy chills, and chest congestion. No runny nose or stuffiness. I've been booze free for 6 years now but, a big old chug of Jack is sounding good. I'm out of the thick of it. The fever has been gone for almost 24 hours. I'm feeding the fever. Mister made a batch of my favorite quick and easy soup today. Soup, vaporub, and my dogs are all I need. And the new cozy jammies I opened on Christmas Eve.
It all worked out just fine.
So, if your holiday was spent at a truck stop, or home alone, or a shelter, or at the in-laws, it was your holiday. I resent the images planted in our heads of what Christmas morning is suppose to look and feel like. I saw two old crusty dudes walking out of the truck stop together Christmas morning just as happy as larks. I quietly bid them Merry Christmas. They looked into my eyes with sincere smiles and bid me the same. I'll take that over pretentious, fake holiday family glib any day.
I'm thinking the flu shot might be a good idea.
The three humans that inhabit our home and two very lazy dogs were pretty content on Christmas Eve.
One present.
Then just one more.
"Fine, let's open them all and go to breakfast in the morning instead of opening gifts."
I'm a huge fan of spontaneity. As I age, more and more I despise tradition. How boring is it to celebrate the same holiday the same way year after year? Guess what, we opened everyone of those presents before 6PM on Christmas Eve and it's a good thing.
The next morning, I made good on my promise of hauling my butt out of bed and going to breakfast. I felt a little rough. Let me tell you guys something, there was something incredibly wonderful about being surrounded by total strangers on Christmas Day. Sure, nothing was open for breakfast except for a truck stop. A truck stop filled with families and people making their way across the state to their loved ones or heading home. The hustle bustle and a kindred spirit among the echoes could be heard. The food was awful. A buffet of awful. The coffee was hot and sort of delicious. I still felt rough.
Over the next 24 hours we had company pop in and out but, this old girl was sick.
That little blue jar of vaporub is keeping me alive. Without it, I'm certain the influenza and that truck stop food would have killed me by now. I can never remember if we are suppose to feed a fever or starve it. My symptoms are a fever, achy chills, and chest congestion. No runny nose or stuffiness. I've been booze free for 6 years now but, a big old chug of Jack is sounding good. I'm out of the thick of it. The fever has been gone for almost 24 hours. I'm feeding the fever. Mister made a batch of my favorite quick and easy soup today. Soup, vaporub, and my dogs are all I need. And the new cozy jammies I opened on Christmas Eve.
It all worked out just fine.
So, if your holiday was spent at a truck stop, or home alone, or a shelter, or at the in-laws, it was your holiday. I resent the images planted in our heads of what Christmas morning is suppose to look and feel like. I saw two old crusty dudes walking out of the truck stop together Christmas morning just as happy as larks. I quietly bid them Merry Christmas. They looked into my eyes with sincere smiles and bid me the same. I'll take that over pretentious, fake holiday family glib any day.
I'm thinking the flu shot might be a good idea.
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