Since I made a mail-order bride joke yesterday and was taken seriously, I figured it was time to write to you again.
So Christmas is almost here, eh?
I’m not ready for it. I think I was pretending it wasn’t coming for a while. Last Christmas was such a heart-wrenching clusterfuck for my family. I’ll tell you about it sometime.
I’ll be putting up a tree with The ACN in a few days. That’ll probably help get me in the holiday mood a little. I’m not into Christmas music, so that doesn’t do anything for me. I’m especially not into Hanson Christmas music, despite what you may have read on Twitter.
Are you on Twitter? It sucks.
My family loves playing Kenny Rogers & Dolly Parton’s Christmas album. Though I’m not sure if they really like it, or if they just like how much it irritates me.
Probably a lot of both.
A few years back, I even made The “Ultimate Christmas CD” so we could listen to something decent.
It was full of the classics. Some Sinatra and John Lennon and Elvis and Springsteen and a bunch of other awesome.
They played Kenny & Dolly instead.
I’m already looking forward to Christmas shopping for you, FW. I loooooooove that. I’ll have a draft e-mail year-round where I’ll stick ideas and links for things you might like. On a rainy night in mid-July you might mention a book you loved when you were 12. I’ll take note of that shit.
And every year I’ll try to come up with one gift that you can’t just buy in a store. Something very unique and just for you. Something that will hopefully make you “Awwww.” Something that will remind you of why you put up with me.
I’ll add to the list often. I’ll rank and re-rank the items.
And when I finally — FINALLY — decide which items to get you, I’ll buy them too early and by Christmas will have talked myself into wanting to buy you more of them.
“I’m intrigued an–”
“You brought it up.”
“Okay. Fine. What are we doing for dinner?”
“I really love what I bought you this year.”
And then you’ll walk away.
My family may torture you during the holidays too. Many years ago, my mom, sister and I ran out to pick up some presents that were being hidden elsewhere, and left my then-girlfriend home to supervise my father.
Five minutes after we left, he got a gleam in his eye. He went to the Christmas tree and grabbed two presents. “I have an idea.”
She was scared.
A few hours later, when we started to open gifts, we began to see what his idea was.
He was laughing so hard he was almost crying when I opened a pair of women’s gloves. “Switched… tags…”
My girlfriend just shrugged as we each opened A LOT of gifts that didn’t belong to us.
Future Wife, there’s a reason why I’m like this.
I’ll also do things to irk you. It’s time you make peace with that.
I’ll tell you “It’s part of my charm!” And hopefully often enough that you’ll believe it.
If you don’t, I’ll try my classic “Shhhhhh” move. For some reason, I think that a gentle shushing will make you forget my misdeeds. I have no idea why. It doesn’t really work, of course. But sometimes the sheer ridiculousness of the attempt will disarm.
I also try to kiss my way out of trouble.
And speeding tickets.
Merry Christmas, lady.