12-16-02 Side Streets, Kimra Traynor Herb
Chevy Chase Holiday Decorations
By Kimra Traynor Herb
IPS Features
My friends liken my holiday
decorating to Chevy Chase in National Lampoons: Christmas Vacation. Each year,
they hold their breath in delight in anticipation of the overdone splendor which
will assault their eyes several days post Thanksgiving. My husband and my boys,
however, have come to dread the annual merry-making fest. Our attic, which is
teeming with red and green containers housing the makings of another garish
Christmas, starts to leak out, little by little into all the rooms.
"MOM!" My six year old complained this year
when I told him to go to bed the Saturday after Thanksgiving.
"What are you still doing up?" I demanded, juggling glass ornaments
and strings of lights while trying to install a little discipline in my child.
"But MOM!" He replied. "I CAN'T go to
bed! I can't even FIND my bed! You have wreaths, and trees, EVERYWHERE!"
Oops. I had him sleep in the guest room.
I have to admit that the whole process has become a bit
daunting, even for me, the girl who started out all those years ago in Ohio with
just two strands of outdoor lights. It has grown to the point where it takes me
nearly a week to assemble, cover, sparkle and light up every corner of my home.
And I don't even do the outdoor lights.
That is my husband's responsibility, and he does it
quickly, and efficiently. He has forbidden me from putting up his decorations at
the end of the year; knowing that if I do, the outdoor stuff will fall into
disarray like the rest of my decorations. He usually completes the whole task in
under five hours.
As for me, I am lucky to get everything straight inside
the house in under five days- working day and night non stop. I get angry at the
amount of time committed to the exercise, and though I play Christmas music
non-stop during the ordeal, my mood is anything but merry. Which led to my
husband's innocent little query this year:
"Why do you even do all of that?"
I shot him a look that would douse even the brightest
mood. "What do you MEAN WHY DO I DO THIS?! Isn't it OBVIOUS?!"
He looked introspective; probably digging deep for what
might pass as the right answer. "Ummm. No. I am not sure why you spend all
those days and nights working like that. You don't even seem to enjoy it."
"DON'T EVEN SEEM TO ENJOY IT? DON'T EVEN SEEM TO
ENJOY IT? OF COURSE I ENJOY IT!!!!!! I LOVE IT!!!!!! IT IS THE MOST FUN
EVER!!!!!!! I CANNOT EVEN BELIEVE THAT YOU WOULD FOR ONE MINUTE THINK THAT I DID
NOT ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS WITH ALL OF MY HEART! SHEESH!!!!!" I spun on my
heel and went back to my decorating, mumbling under my breath and still reeling
from what had to have been the most ridiculous question of the 21st century.
A few days later, everything was in its place; the house
was clean, and even my fifteen year old couldn't help but comment. "Wow
Mom, everything looks great! Christmasy and clean!" He went on,
"Sometimes we have Christmasy. And sometimes we have clean. But we rarely
have Christmasy and clean at the same time."
I was jubilant in my extreme decorating powers so I let
that slide. "It does look beautiful, doesn't it!" I exclaimed, happy
at last.
"You know, honey," my husband, the voice of
reason, and the only reason he and I will be eating in our retirement years
said, "you just got them all up, and in a few weeks you are going to have
to take them all down again."
It's hard to maintain a good mood around this joint.
Comments like that can set me back for hours. Still, I managed a smile and a big
fat lie came right through my mouth, smooth as butter. "I don't mind at all
taking them down. It is all part of the good Christmas spirit I have; I know
that next year I'll get to do it all again." And then I pulled out my big
gun: "And...... we'll have more after we visit the post-Christmas clearance
sales."
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