It’s the time of year where yet again I get to be the nasty Scrooge-person. Every year I tell people that I don’t want anything for Christmas and that no one should buy me anything. I DON’T NEED MORE STUFF! I’m not even just being polite; srsly people, there is nothing that I need and very few things that I truly want. (I feel as though I have blogged about this in years past, but I am too lazy and the queue for logging in is too short to go searching right now. too bad, you’ll have to deal with my repetitiveness without links to remind you of just how repetitive I am.)
Somehow it has still taken YEARS for it to sink in with my family, and last year Mike and I even cheated and sent presents to my brother and sister-in-law. (Not that I can remember what we got them, but I know it must have been something easy because I suck at present-buying.) But it has finally become the new rule with my family. No presents unless you are in the Third Generation, and even then, practically no presents even for them. Having a boy after a couple of friends have already had boys means that Nathan has more clothes than any little boy ever wished for and we have all the loaner baby gear a family could ever dream of.
But now is the time of year where I still have to try and convince the other side of the family that we really, truly, no lying, we’re not just sayin’, we REALLY would rather just get together, have dinner and visit. Without the presents. Apparently this makes me a jerk. Why can’t we just have two Thanksgivings? Why did Jesus have to go and demand that we all have Christmas trees with presents piled underneath them every year to celebrate his birth?
What’s that? That wasn’t his idea? Are you sure? Maybe we should find a new (old?) way to celebrate then. Just a thought.