My least favorite part of Christmas – shopping – is done!
::dances in comfort with joy::
I loathe shopping, hate it, hate it, hate it. This is probably because I was raised by a woman (hi Mom) who loves it. My mother was born to shop. She has a special shopping gait – when she gets to a store she likes, she walks so slowly that she actually slows down Time itself. As a child, this used to make me fling myself on the floor, howling in frustration, pretending to be dying of a rare virus, begging strangers to take me home – anything to get out of the store. Mom and I don’t shop much together anymore. When we do, I am convinced that she slows down even more, touching Every. Single. Thing. in the whole blooming building, just to irritate me.
These days, when forced to shop with other family members, I am known to bring a book. It should be noted, for the record, that all of my kids love to shop. I encourage them to take Grandma whenever possible.
So now that the shards of glass under the fingernails portion of the holiday is over, I can relax. Wrapping, I like. Decorating, cooking, humming out of tune to ancient carols, feeding birds, counting stars, sitting in front of the fireplace, and ho-ho-ho? I adore all that.