One of these days, I hope I can come back to earth as a man during the holidays!
I’ve read all about reincarnation, soul traveling beliefs, and even the soul transmigration ideas, along with some pretty “out there” philosophies I can’t say one way or the other if any of it is a real thing, but if it is, I’m holding my hand up to be chosen to come back as a straight happily married male that celebrates Christmas!
Forget George Bailey and Clarence the Angel… give me just ONE Christmas as a man! Or specifically… MY man.
My husband, Marty, is totally one of the good ones and he does as much as he can to help, as does my stepson, Van, but sadly…I’ve painted myself into a corner that only I can live in. Neither of them can figure out my system, and they both claim even old Al Einstein couldn’t make heads or tails of it either.
They might not be wrong.
It seems so simple to me. The plastic bins with the green tops are for the tree decorations. The red tops are the soft goods like the stockings, festive pillows, and throws, and the purple ones are for everything else. I’ve tried to explain that to my guys, but it falls on deaf ears.
“There was a stocking in the green bin, Julia…That is NOT a tree ornament,” Marty blurted out one year when the top slipped off one of the bins.
“So sue me, Marty… the red bins had already been stored so I stuck the stocking in the green bin. Geez!”
“Well if you’re going to have a system sweetheart, then HAVE A SYSTEM!”
The fact that I remained silent after that remark should get me extra points in Heaven… A LOT of extra points!
A few years ago, after a long exhaustive episode of decorating for Christmas, Marty said I needed a shed for all my….well…forget what he said…he meant my decorations.
“This is IT, Julia! We are NOT going to spend another November FOOTBALL weekend climbing in and out of the attic and crawl spaces. I’ve HAD IT! You need a shed!”
I agreed wholeheartedly. I certainly wasn’t going to turn down an entire SHED just for my decorations! I’m not that foolish!
While he wasn’t thrilled with the process, there was another method to his new generosity. I decorate for the holidays the weekend of Thanksgiving. That’s also the Carolina-Clemson football game weekend. You haven’t seen grumpy until you ask Marty Hook to leave his television during THAT game. So my ploy of asking for help then worked to my advantage.
I got my shed and he doesn’t have to carry boxes up and down the stairs.
The shed makes things a lot easier, but I still say Christmas for the fairer sex is harder. We do the decorating, the shopping, the wrapping, the cooking, and the cleaning. If pressed, the men will occasionally smoke a turkey.
It just doesn’t seem fair.
When we were first married, every Christmas was a chore! I wanted the house LIT UP for the holidays and I counted on him to do it.
He hated doing it. Every year it was a chore he didn’t want, so he dreaded it. I dreaded him dreading it. Our son dreaded even coming over to the house during decorating day!
It was NOT a holly jolly time.
But then…he found out our friend, who owns a florist business, would do outside decorating! He hired her immediately and believe me…it’s a wonderful thing. She and her staff arrive and decorate the outside of the house shortly after Thanksgiving, and they take it down before the New Year. She’s like the elf that saves Christmas every year! I don’t know who loves her more…me or Marty.
Once I have the house situated and our halls are decked inside and out, Marty does enjoy it. He loves the tree and the mantle lights as much as I do, but left to his own devices, I think he’d tape up a picture of a decorated tree he cut out of a magazine and call it a day.
After over 20-years of marriage, Marty and I have worked out all the holiday wrinkles and we can enjoy each other and the merriment of the season. We’ve had a few twists and turns over the years, but it’s all good now.
I remember one Christmas Eve a few years ago just before bed and everything was done. Our family was coming over the next day, so the gifts were wrapped and under the tree. The food was ready to pop in the oven and we were even wearing our matching holiday pajamas. It was definitely a Currier and Ives moment. I sat beside my sweetie, rested my head on his shoulder, and sighed in contentment. So did he.
Or so I thought.
“Ya know, Julia…I love Christmas…I do…but man! It just wears me out every single year!”
I raised my head and just looked at him. He had wrapped ONE present! ONE! And he used a bag! A BAG! And HE was exhausted? Just as I was taking in a big breath to tell him which lake to jump into, he burst into laughter and hugged me tight while pinning my arms to my side. I had to laugh with him once I realized he was kidding.
At least I HOPE he was kidding!
I’m just saying…
Happy New Year everyone! May 2026 be the BEST year EVERRRRR for us all!
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