The holidays are piled up at the end of the year like an obstacle course with a high potential for causing injury, and I approach them as such. When January 2 comes around and I discover that we’ve survived them all relatively intact, I cross myself and breathe the proverbial sigh.
Here in the United States, the whole mess begins with Halloween. This year, thankfully, no one was lost in the corn maze or sliced off a finger while carving pumpkins, and no one bit into a razor blade hidden within a looted chocolate. I remember how terrified I was of this happening to me circa 1979.
It wasn’t long after this past Halloween, however, that I was hit from behind while driving to work. I escaped injury and any liability for the accident but my little commuter-mobile went into the shop for more than a week and over $3,500 in repairs.
This year we celebrated Thanksgiving at our home with my parents and my sister and her family. It was crowded but warm. The bird was roasted to perfection and everything was going along like a holiday card until my daughter decided to chip her (permanent) front tooth on, of all things, a bongo drum. There were tears, tears, tears, but after a few days and a trip to the dentist all was well again.
During this quiet but vaguely threatening lull that separates Thanksgiving from Christmas, we’ve so far been spared any really horrible disasters. My son did frighten himself into a two-day bout of insomnia by reading Hound of the Baskervilles, and the cat has launched an encore performance of her role as vomit-artist. But we got the tree into the house and decorated it without incident.
If our luck holds, we’ll pass under the razor wire of Christmas Eve with nothing more than a few scratches and emerge a week later from New Year’s Day with little worse than a headache. At any rate, I’m signing off for the remainder of 2013. I’ll be back again in January, if I’m still living.
Thanks for reading, and happy holidays.