It’s over. That
fast. The gifts are neatly stacked in a corner, waiting for various recipients
to take theirs. The living room is swept and vacuumed, and all the trash picked
up. Dinner is done, dishes washed and put up—oops, it didn’t quite go that way
around here. Years from now we may refer to it as the “Wipes Christmas” but the
joke is still too raw, not funny.
The sewer is still
backed up, or there’s a problem with the septic system. We used disposable bakeware
as serving dishes and ate off paper plates Still delicious. And the grace was
the same (thanks to TCU Pre-School some 45 years ago). And even though we didn’t
have turkey, lethargy settled in. Lisa’s parents left to go home, and the rest of
the family began to work on gingerbread houses which they are submitting to
some contest. I somehow got side-tracked
worrying about taxes and began some explorations I should have begun a month
ago. And made lists of things Colin and I should discuss tomorrow.
It had been a
warm, sunny day so Colin took a break from sewer troubles to take the first dip
in the pool—Morgan and Kegan followed but all three retreated to the hot tub
pretty quickly.
I am actually making
progress on the giant project I’m reading for aa university press—but no closer
to a conclusion. And tonight I’m too sleepy. I’ve often felt that Christmas
night households are full of people letting a giant “Whoosh” as all the piss
and vinegar rushes out of them. And they go to sleep, as I’m going to do.
Which one would you vote for? A, B, C, or D?
