Where I'm At

Crazy Christmas Village, photo courtesy of melisdramatic.

Ah Christmas. Equal parts sublime and ridiculous. December ping-pongs back and forth between delight and drudgery. On one hand, I love the adrenaline rush. I love finding gifts. And wrapping them. I enjoy a good boozy Christmas party. A ready stash of cookies in the pantry. Good times. But then something happens, it always does, and I'm right down in Whoville. This morning my inner Grinch was released when Stella had a four-alarm meltdown as we were trying to get out the door. Half an hour late as usual - damn that Bo On The Go - Stella refused to put her boots on because she didn't have a Santa hat to wear to "Wacky Christmas Accessories Day" at school. Let the record show that I made her a wacky Christmas accessory: an oversize Mr. T-style pendant complete with bell, silver garland and plastic mistletoe. It was gaudy, hideous, noisy perfection. But apparently not good enough. She needed a Santa hat. A one-sided deal was struck: get to school now and I will go find a Santa hat and bring it to school. The deal meant that I stuffed my bare feet into winter boots and left the house with no make-up and no breakfast. Fast-forward to Loblaws and lo, there is a bin of ugly fake fur stockings and santa hats. That they're marked down to .99 is entirely missing the point: I'd have paid $10 for a santa hat if it meant making my daughter happy. Relief gave way to panic when I discovered the bin was full of stockings but only one hat. One hat with a smear of something unpleasant and brown and crusty on the white fur. As if Santa were practicing Proctology in the off season. I bought it. I tried to clean the fur with snow collected from the roof of the car. It occurred to me later that I could have used the school's washroom, but such was my mindset by this time. I delivered the hat not with love in my heart but something more closely resembling victory. I'd like to say that Stella's face lit up at the sight of me waving a Santa hat in the doorway of the classroom, but the truth is she didn't give a fig. I need to give my mom a hug.