It’s the best of times; it’s the worst of times
Christmas brings out the best and worst in people.
Take the best: people walking out of the outlets, after spending
more money than they intended, but still finding a few bills to
drop into The Salvation Army’s cheerful red buckets, manned by even
more cheerful bell ringers, lending music to the mood.
It’s the best of times; it’s the worst of times
Christmas brings out the best and worst in people.
Take the best: people walking out of the outlets, after spending more money than they intended, but still finding a few bills to drop into The Salvation Army’s cheerful red buckets, manned by even more cheerful bell ringers, lending music to the mood.
The worst: People camping out in front of electronics stores on the eve of a new video game release and forgetting all sense of propriety when the doors open.
The Best: Christmas cookies made by The Kids.
The Worst: The mess after Christmas cookies made by The Kids.
The Best: Christmas with The Family, looking at old photos over hot cocoa while snowed in at Tahoe.
The Worst: Christmas with other people’s Families, looking at old photos, over hot cocoa while snowed in at Tahoe.
The Best: giving your sister a sweater you know she’ll love.
The Worst: Getting the same sweater next year.
The Best: The Mall at Christmas.
The Worst: The Mall at Christmas.
As you can see, the list is extensive, and we all have our own versions of The Best and The Worst but some things are universal.
Seeing The Husband’s excitement as he described his grand plans for the holiday display at our house is certainly the best. Hearing The Husband’s swearing when one strand won’t light out of ten, already strung together is the worst.
The tacky display of animated, lighted animals gracing our front yard is The Worst. As if free-range deer, illuminated by tiny white lights are in their natural habitat on suburban lawns across the nation and gigantic inflatable snow globes containing a maniacally grinning Santa should be the pride of any subdivision. On one hand, those things are the worst, but on the other, they are simply the best.
The Worst, because well, they are free-range illuminated deer and gigantic inflatable snow globes.
The Best, because kids love ’em. And for some reason, so do men approaching middle-age who have just finished watching National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation for the 15th time. Let’s just say that sometimes, my nickname for The Husband is, “Sparky,” an homage to Chevy Chase’s Clark Griswold, as he tries to make the “perfect family Christmas” with an obnoxious light display that only works sporadically and when it does, drains the entire town’s power supply. The Husband’s aspiration, which is fueled by sweet, well-meaning neighbors who ring the doorbell just to tell us how much they love the display.
Okay, so that could be classified under The Best category. Just don’t leave it up all year because there are so many lights and the deer have mysteriously multiplied. The neighbors will stop being so sweet and well-meaning when they ring your doorbell. Christmas spirit only lasts for so long and then that’s The Worst.
But, I think there are more Bests than Worsts.
May The Kids clean up the cookie mess in the kitchen. May you be snowed in with your own Family. May you get a sweater you’ve never seen before from your sister. May your animated, illuminated deer animate and illuminate and may your neighbors be sweet and well-meaning.
In other words, All The Best.
