“It's time for you know what!” she said with guarded excitement.
“Oh boy!” I enthused, tongue firmly in cheek. “I'll get the scented massage oil!”
“Not for that, you know what, the other one,” her frustration-drenched response prefaced her patented eye-roll. “It's time to bring the Christmas tree down from the attic so we can decorate it! Are you sure you still fit through the trap door? Are you saying I'm bigger around than our tree?” I tried to sound as hurt as possible.
“All I'm saying is that when you press the tree limbs against the trunk, the tree gets smaller. However, when you press YOUR limbs against the trunk of YOUR body.....”
“I get it, already..” I interupted her drivel. “Let me say how much I appreciate you monitoring my girth.”
“It's my job,” she snickered. “And not a pleasant one, either!”
After a quick trip into the attic, quick, that is, apart from the time spent stuck in the entryway into the ceiling (apparently the hole had gotten smaller since the previous year) I retrieved our festive fake foliage.
As I wrestled with the gigantic decoration, I could smell the artificial pine scent on the artificial tree. Cupcake sprays it on to make it smell more natural, oblivious to the irony of it.
“We should have got some eggnog to drink while we decorate,” I said, trying to get into the spirit of it. “I had some at Jeff's that was just awesome!”
“Eggnog? Gross.” her face contorted in remembered digust. “It's like a super-sweet barium smoothie. There's a reason you don't see it all year round. The stuff Jeff served up was probably half rum.”
“It did appear thinner than most eggnog,” I admited. “I just thought it was eggnog lite. Okay, then how about a Christmas movie while we decorate? That sounds great!” she responded joyously. “How about 'Die Hard'? It starts out with a great rendition of “Let It Snow”.
“I was thinking of something along the lines of 'Miracle on 34th Street'. 'Die Hard' as a Christmas movie? You're just hung up on Bruce Willis,” I observed.
“Heh heh... let's just forget the movie,” Cupcake defensively changed the subject. “We'll just put on the Christmas Tree channel. Can we put on the Fireplace Channel instead?” I enquired innocently. “I find it less repetitive than the carols on the tree channel. I'm sure that celebrity Christmas albums outnumber available Christmas songs by at least a thousand to one. In fact, the only Christmas album I can listen to all the way through anymore is Boney M's. Their rendition of 'When a Child is Born' always chokes me up.”
“Honey,” Cupcake snorted in amusement, “Even Lego commercials choke you up. You are such a sap you could be a donor if a tree needed a transfusion.”
As Cupcake opened the box of ornaments our banter trailed off. Looking at the collection of memories in that box was like a visit from the Ghost of Christmas Past. I found Junior's special “Baby's First Christmas” hand painted bauble and smiled at the recollection of the first time it had graced our tree.
Out came more decorations. There was the paper angel Matt had made in Kindergarten. Its halo has been taped back into place a mite crookedly and it's once-white dress now looks bedraggled like the angel had rolled a homeless woman to get it. Matt was so proud of it at the time. Now he says it just looks tacky and doesn't understand why we don't just toss it. Yeah. Right. He doesn't understand that each one of those decorations, particularly the ones the boys made as they grew up, are vital to our whole Christmas experience. They are sacred pieces of the elaborate mosaic we call “Christmas Spirit” and evoke as many memories as an old family photo album.
“What about this cheapie reindeer ornament?” I held out the item in question. Thin felt once covered all of the brown plastic. Coverage was now more spotty in some areas and there was evidence of teeth marks, although not sure if it was child or dog . One eye was missing. “Surely this doesn't have sentimental value.”
We looked at it briefly and then said in unison, “We'll put it in the back of the tree.”
As we talked about our favourite holiday moments from yules gone by, I was struck by an odd thought. It occured to me that remembrances of the past seasons is rarely about the gifts we received, yet that is what we spend the most time and effort on. Humans are an odd bunch.
No comments:
Post a Comment