Things are speeding up for the Whalens. You know when you steal your brother's longboard, and you start skating around like you know what you're doing, but you don't? And then you're going down a hill and it's fine at first but then holy crap you're really speeding up and how are you going to stop and maybe it's time to start thinking about tucking and rolling on that patch of grass up there? That's what Christmas feels like. The funny thing is that before I get on the longboard (now this is a metaphor...try to keep up) I picture myself skating down the hill with impressive pro-ness. It almost never happens like that. And by almost, I mean always. It always never happens like that.
That is Christmas for the Whalens, my friends. We are tucking and rolling. Please keep your expectations low.
Here's what I did manage to do instead of, like, buy my parents an anniversary present or clean the bathroom. (Also, I like this collage because it looks like boobs and/or a face with a mustache.)
That's three things. And Rob did one of them. But who cares?! Decorations are the best! (None of these ideas are original. Not one. What I'm saying is, you should resist the urge to feel impressed.)
Here's what I meant to do, but didn't:
- Send clever Christmas cards featuring handsome and stylish pictures of me, Rob, and Fritz the dogbaby.
- Handcraft something fancy for my lady friends.
- The dishes.
- Bake something trendy and fabulous for my neighbors and co-worshipers.
- Sculpt tiny fruits and veggies out of marzipan.
- Not grow out of all my jeans.
And so on.
Hopefully I'm not the only one who gets totally steamrolled by this holiday.
P.S. What are the chances that my future kids don't expect more from Christmas then styrofoam crafts, Dominos pizza, and watching Pee Wee's Christmas special (in 5 parts) on the youtube? Fingers are crossed.