The View from my house

Boy, am I ever glad Christmas is over. One reason is because I'm full. Even though I stayed away from dozens and dozens of holiday treats, the unfortunate truth is that still others ended up on my plate this month. As a result, my clothes seem a little tight. One might assume I've gained a pound or two over the holidays but there's no proof of that, since I've decided to be scale-free for the time being. Besides, I pretty sure all my clothing magically shrunk a little. I'm hoping they grow back to their original size during January. Regardless, I'm kind of fed up (pun intended, of course) with celebratory feasts. Bob and Chris both had the audacity to be born in December, so we've been eating our way through many joyous occasions. For some reason, none of these meals consisted of bean sprouts and rice cakes. But the overabundance of food is not the only reason I'm glad Christmas is over. I'm also relieved to be done with shopping. I have come to a point in my life where I really don't enjoy Christmas shopping. And yet, I can never convince myself I'm finished. I always seem to need just one or two more little things, right up until the last minute. So, I'm one of those idiots dashing into the "rollback store" (the only place still open) on Christmas Eve afternoon. I'm not sure who hates me more — me or the unfortunate employees who work there. But, that's at the very end. Earlier in the month, Bob and I spent several Saturdays roaming around in various shopping centers. Once, even though we found the exact thing we were looking for, we left without buying it because Bob was convinced he would lose any semblance of sanity if he had to wait on the preposterously long line to pay. I can't stand fighting the crowds to do something as time-consuming as comparison shop. I eventually reach the point that I'll pay almost anything in order to leave the store with myself intact and carrying something to wrap up. Because of this, our credit cards have taken a bit of a beating. In fact, one of them is so chafed it may need some sort of antibacterial ointment to recover. Of course, as they say: it ain't over ‘til it's over — which means I still have to get through New Year's Eve. I don't think I'll need any gifts, but there's definitely another feast on the horizon. And since it will happen in the middle of the night, I'm sure every calorie will affix itself firmly to my hips. When my children were very young, we were going out to dinner for New Year's Eve when we were hit by a drunk driver — at 5 o'clock in the afternoon. Since then, I've been understandably suspicious of any and all traffic on Dec. 31. So, I tend to stay put. Wherever I am at three in the afternoon is usually where I will stay until the next morning.