The Stockings are Hung
Holiday traditions
It’s the night before Christmas, the kid’s fighting sleep,
The dogs are both snoring, from the cat not a peep;
The stockings are hung, Mom’s filling them with stuff,
Toys are put together, isn’t this enough?
Nana has read Benjamin’s favorite tale,
He has finally crashed, with nary a wail;
I’m full from rare beef and a cocktail or three,
Mom’s been in the wine, and now she’s bossin’ me!
Ah, the Christmas rituals and traditions. Both heartwarming and nerve-racking at the same time. Thankfully, in our home, more the former.
My attempt at sharing our holiday history wasn’t going so well with The Night Before Snows’ Christmas, so let’s try this:
This upcoming Christmas will be bittersweet for many reasons. This is our son Benjamin’s last Christmas at home before “our baby” goes off to college and the first Christmas in fourteen years that Benjamin’s canine brother Belmont won’t be with us. We will hang a stocking for Belmont, just as we will for Bagheera and Skeeter, and they’ve been gone for years. Yep, every family member gets a stocking.
I’m always the infrastructure guy at Christmas. I hang the stockings. My wife, Diane, stuffs them with goodies. I make sure the tree is stable and placed perfectly; Diane and Benjamin decorate. With much prodding and a smidge of complaining, I lay the foundation for holiday cheer. Diane does the real work and the finishing touches to pull it all together perfectly. She wraps each gift with different wrapping papers, hand-tied bows, and thoughtful flourishes. I make good use of the gift bag concept. This DOES NOT make me a slacker.
(Spoiler alert, grown-ups only paragraph) My best work was featured in years past when Santa was a key player. Benjamin and I would put out cookies and milk for Santa and carrots on the front steps for the reindeer. After Benjamin was asleep, I quickly made the cookies and milk disappear. Chewing up the carrots off the front steps (to give the impression of reindeer snacking) was not as appetizing. My other significant duty was to write the thank-you letter from Santa for the snacks. Are you surprised to learn that Santa has over-sized, rather effeminate, cursive handwriting? I’m comfortable having pretty penmanship.
Most years we try to make it to the Christmas Eve service at church. Candlelight communion services can be quite moving with the dimmed lights, the candles, and beautiful voices filling a sanctuary. Always a little challenging to balance the timing of food and spirits intake with getting to church on time. “Yes, I’m wearing shorts, dear…the choir robe will cover me up.”
I’m sure new Christmas traditions await us. Maybe we’lldress our current dog, Max, as a reindeer and go caroling? What if the college boy wants to sample the eggnog? If I continue to get more “jolly”, I may have to wear a Santa suit for comfort. Less cookies and milk and more carrots? Nope, ‘tis not yet the season for resolutions!
