Holiday Madness

I received a text from my sister a few days before Thanksgiving to let me know that they had voted, and James and I were hosting Christmas Eve at our house this year. (I mentioned that briefly in last month’s post.)

But they voted and somehow forgot to include me in the process. Not that my input would have mattered. We were hosting – regardless of what I or James thought.

And I don’t know if being gay men means we have to go a bit overboard. (James repainted the guest bath before his parents visit in October.) Or if James’ tendency to organize things into lists (I really should share the cookie ingredient spreadsheet!) made things not look so crazy-making. Or if this is something that everyone goes through.

I can remember going to my grandmother’s for the holidays, and somehow she would have made not just a full-blown sit-down lunch or dinner, but there was also a few pies, a couple of cakes, and fudge. And she seemed so unflustered. Or she drank.

But she didn’t seem tipsy…

By the time we were approaching D-Day, lists had been drawn up not just for the menu but shopping, cooking, and cleaning. Did I mention they were broken down by day?

I found myself spending one afternoon on my butt cleaning baseboards. Baseboards.

He has met my family, right?

James even repotted plants.

And somehow in the midst of the cleaning, cooking, and shopping, we still had to box and deliver cookies. Luckily I landed the delivery part of that, so I was able to sneak away for a bit. And discover we aren’t the only ones going a little over the top.

I was dropping off cookies for one client and in chatting, discovered they had their garage floors redone on the 22^nd. Which meant cleaning out the garage. And the refrigerator and freezer in the garage. Which went a long way towards explaining all the bins and shelves sitting in her kitchen that needed to be put away so the house was ready for their Christmas Eve party.

Suddenly I didn’t feel so out of hand.

Of course, the evening went well. Lots of food. Lots of wine. Wrapping paper everywhere. And magically everyone was gone.

And no one even mentioned the baseboards.

But at least I know they’re clean.