Merry Christmas by Giuseppe Palmisano |
She slumped into her favourite arm chair. Christmas had once again overwhelmed and exhausted her.
There was an
oppressive scent of pine in the air that seemed to smoother her, as if too much
toilet cleaner had been squirted up her nose.
She was
weighed down by tinsel and glitter, like grit in her eyes, both blinding and
scratchy at the same time but her arms were heavy, unable to sweep the
offending sparks away.
Pinned down
and hemmed in by tradition desperately trying to create the perfect
festivities.
Seventeen
vegetables with dinner, home made brandy butter, an array of cheese with
crackers and grapes.
Vintage
grape scissor sourced from Ebay, that didn’t actually cut. Lingerie from her
beloved that was the wrong size – wishful thinking her boobs were that big! Two
fondue sets, cheap and tacky, buy one get one free no doubt. Toys that required
batteries which they’d overlooked on the shopping list.
It was the
usual over the top shambles, nothing like the glamourous family Christmases
portrayed in the cheesy movies, but marginally better than the Den and Angie
divorce.
Next year,
she sighed, it would be different.
And so here
we are in 2020 and there’s a good reason to stop the nonsense.
“Let’s do
things another way.” She whispers as she crawls out from under conventionality
and plans this year's new normal.