Thursday, December 24, 2015

I'm Not Manic, I'm Your Mama

This is the time each year when the instead of the Christmas spirit descending upon me and filling me with joy and glee, I take on a "Bah Humbug" attitude. I am organized, have lists, and start planning (and executing - thank you very much) months in advance, yet still I get down to the final 24 hours and find that there is still more to do.

We always run out of tape. Even though I bought 3 rolls the Monday after Thanksgiving thinking I had that one checked off. My DH decided we would have steaks for our family Christmas dinner. That suited me, until he returned from Costco, sans steaks and on Christmas Eve I found myself knowing I would be on the way to the store with the hoards of "Merry Makers" full of "Cheer". I had my list, my shopping bags, and was out early. Not as early as I had hoped but early enough. I knew Aldi would not be too packed and I could get in and out - savings time, money, and aggravation. A glimmer of hope shown through the clouds of despair floating over me like Joe Btfsplk (out of Li'l Abner).

Suddenly I felt as if I was overwhelmed. I found three gifts that still had to be wrapped. And, naturally, we were out of tape. In the kitchen I was trying to clean off the counter and my DH was asking why I had changed my mind about going to Charleston this morning to look at apartments. (Did I need to remind him that women can change their minds and their hair color?) 

Our dear Airedale had managed to get water all around her water bowl, then walk in it with her dirty feet all on the clean white kitchen floor. As I turned to get a rag to clean that up. My DH asked what I had planned for meals while the kids were here.I went to the pantry to see if we had pancake mix, checked the 'fridge for sausage, and was looking in the crisper for salad makings when the phone rang. "Can you get it," I screamed.

It was my daughter and I could hear my DH say, "Your mother is manic."

Soon my DH came in the kitchen. "You realize you are being unpleasant."

"No, I'm not. I'm just trying to get things done. I thought I had it all done but I it never seems to end. And now I have to go to the grocery store." He just looked at me and walked out of the room.

So off to the dreaded Bi Lo I went. The store where all the procrastinators would be slowly parking, blocking the aisles as they tried to make decisions over the turkey that was on sale or the ham that Uncle Buddy always enjoyed, and never being to prepared to pay when the cashier told them the total amount of their groceries. Mother of God bless my because I have sinned with the ugly thoughts I have about these people.

I went straight to the meat counter, found that they had whole pieces of New York strip (there is a Santa after all Virginia). Then I figured, when in Rome (or Bi Lo as the case may be) I may as well finish my shopping. They had everything on my list with the acceptation of fresh french bread that I needed for paninies - they would not be out of the oven for an hour. Surprisingly, the lines were short, the total cash was astronomical, but I escaped with all but a few things on my list in less time than I feared. I loaded my bags in the car and headed to my second stop - Aldi.

I found everything I needed my list. Total relief as I loaded my car and pulled out of the lot. I sat at the light. The red and green stop light finally brought about a smile and some relief. I took a deep breath. Maybe I was being a little frantic, on edge. But, someone had to do it. Or did they? Deep breath. Why am I so uptight? This is not worth it. I need to remember my old mantra and get back to my roots. MWDH "Martha (Stewart) Would Die Here."

Scotch tape, jeez, I forgot about the tape. Deep breaths . . . 

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