From Under the Tree

 

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.