Tales of a Smart Aleck Mom: It's Christmas Eve, Step Away from the Microwave

It's Christmas Eve. Well I suppose this would be the right time to write a Christmas blog if I was gonna write a Christmas blog. So here it goes.

I don’t know about your family, but by the time Christmas Eve rolls around, we are all about Christmased out. There have been Christmas decorations in the stores, Christmas lights on the houses, and Christmas songs on the radio for about the last two months. Most people went straight from Halloween to Christmas. I saw that some stores had a combination of the two in October. These are strange, strange days.

But I suppose I can’t completely blame the retailers. What percent of the entire year’s sales are made at a retail store in the last month of the year? Shirley? A little help here? I would venture to guess it could be around 50% or more. Or maybe a lot more. And so if the stores want to extend that season to make more sales, I’m sure they will do about anything -- if money is involved.

Anyways, the holidays are here. Last night we had our annual Everts’ family pitch tournament/Christmas party. Kudos to Aunt Kathy for putting it all together, reserving the site, and ordering the pizza. Somehow we always, always have way too much food. Lots of desserts and goodies and party beverages. The cranberry margaritas were a new twist. Thank you Sarah for the peanut butter balls. I see pregnancy hasn’t slowed you down too much. Or else you just really had a craving.

Mandy and I were on a pitch team together. Rick teamed with my dad and Joe was with my brother Mark -- talk about high bidding, obnoxious gloaters. I’m not sure which of those two teams could be worse. It was a loud and raucous tournament. Cousins Jake and Kyle won – the brothers Danielson. Mandy was so proud that they are now both taller than she is.

Mandy and I ended up at the losers table. However, I must say that we just came down from the winners table and ended there. It was kind of a “luck of the draw/musical chairs” thing. Time ran out and we ended at the bottom. (My sister Carrie, I’m sure, would have some snarky remark to insert here.) I will say that the walk of shame from the winners table to the bottom at the losers table is oh so painful. I think we could have taken Jake and Kyle had we still been at the winners table. We stomped them earlier. But Mandy and I will try to lose with grace and panache – if that is even possible in our family. Probably not.

We will be ready for next year, however. We definitely have our victory dance down. It involves a little cabbage patch and a little shoulder brushing. Revenge is a dish best served cold.

Yesterday was also the observance of Festivus at Rick’s office. It is an annual holiday revered by old Seinfeld fans. If you are not familiar with the Festivus practices, check it out on YouTube. They searched for an aluminum pole, but only had one of PVC. The feats of strength began with the crushing of cans and ended by lifting the back end of Gordon’s new Honda. There was time for the airing of grievances. Riley started it off. However, as far as the grievance thing goes, I’m highly doubtful that these guys have any problems airing their grievances any given day. There are no big secrets at the Flatwater Group. Fortunately the holiday observance ended without any wrestling and no one had to cry. Had to, I said.

I got my Christmas photo cards out yesterday. Thursday I placed my order and picked them up that evening. At 7:45pm I was about the only person in Walgreens, along with the checkers. It was deathly quiet. It was about the only place in Lincoln that was that quiet.

I got the letters in the mail yesterday. I was not the only one there. Another last-minute mailer was at the post office with me, sorting our mail in piles so they could go in the local Lincoln mail slot and the out-of-town slot. We had our stuff scattered all over the entry way; people had to step around us to mail their last-minute bills. Oh well. It’s done.

I know I will get into all kinds of trouble because there was no Christmas letter in the cards this year. My Aunt Elaine loves Rick’s Christmas cat letter. He always writes the letter as Maggie the cat and she says her Christmas isn’t complete without it. But if I waited for a letter from Maggie this year, there would be no cards whatsoever. Oh snap. My bad. I’ll worry about that later.

Before I went to the post office, I wrangled with the traffic at the SouthPointe mall. That place was a zoo. People may have been happy in the stores, but they turned into lunatic harpies once they got into their cars. I didn’t have any shopping left to do. Mandy went to the Sherlock Holmes movie there with her friend Isaac. (I know. But she is 14, and I did drop her off and pick her up, as per the rules of the 14-year-old date. There was the painful, one-arm reciprocating hug from Isaac at the end. They gave each other huge candy bars for Christmas. I think I have until October until he turns 16 and I have to worry about bring-homes. But then I may have a whole new world of worries by that time. Just blink and the picture completely changes. Lov’n this whole teenage girl thing. “But it wasn’t a date, mom.” Clearly I still have “Stupid” tattooed on my forehead.)

Currently I am baking homemade cinnamon rolls, as per my Grandma Everts’ recipe. I add the goo to the top, however. Her cinnamon rolls were perfect plain. But Joe likes his rolls gooey with the sticky stuff on top. You evolve for your audience. Plus, I like to lick the bowl after I make the caramel goo. There’s got to be some benefit of being the little red hen.

I am breaking for tradition for tonight’s supper, however. We generally have chili and oyster stew for supper on Christmas Eve. But tonight I am making prime rib. I’ve calculated my roast pounds time 5 minutes and I think it will be fantastic. We’ve got a good rub for the outside and I am going to put a big sign on the stove so no one opens it for the allotted two hours. Rick is pretty excited about the whole deal. He is sitting downstairs watching the NFL football games, foaming at the mouth. Better make my sign a little bigger.

(Adding an aside here. During my critical 26 minutes of cook time at 500 degrees, Rick turned off my timer to warm up something in the microwave. Men. I think I have scrambled enough to salvage the whole affair. I now have Joe positioned on his computer, close to the oven. If Rick enters the kitchen, Joe has been instructed to announce: “Step away from the microwave.” No one messes with Joe’s roast. He will see it through.)

Tonight I play organ for Christmas Eve. It is a song service with about a dozen hymns. It is going to be by candlelight, as well. So that will be cool. Usually I wear out my fingers at these services, but tonight Marcus volunteered to play the preservice, offertory, and postlude for me. He has been taking organ lessons at MLC and is going to show off his mad skills. He sounds fantastic.

The bad part of the whole deal is that the church ordered a brand new organ from Ahlborn Galanti that was supposed to be delivered in time for Christmas from Italy. After much to do, the thing got held up at customs this week and won’t be here for the holidays. Bummer, bummer, bummer. Marcus and I were really looking forward to the Zimbelstern for our Silent Night and angel pieces. Oh well, you can’t miss something you haven’t had. But I’m still a little sad. L

After church we will take a ride around Lincoln and look at the Christmas lights. If anyplace is open, we will stop for hot chocolate. Then we will come home and watch “A Christmas Story.” Maybe I should have made a Christmas duck tonight. No. I don’t think I could have found one with the head attached.

Tomorrow will be another round at the organ for the Christmas morning service. Then we will open presents and lay around the rest of the day watching random movies and feasting on ham. I haven’t thawed the turkey yet – so it’s turkey for New Year’s Eve. Oh snap.

There will be lots of presents and paper. I won’t mention what anyone is getting for Christmas, just in case. I will say I made a lot of trips to Best Buy. But you never know, someone might take a huge dive off the nice list. You’ve got to behave in the clutch. The walk of shame to the naughty list is oh so painful.

Merry Christmas to all our family and friends. Remember that Jesus is the reason for the season and that wise men seek him still.