It’s almost February. I know this not only because of the cold
weather, the muddy boot prints on my kitchen floor and my list of
already broken resolutions, but also because I’m the only person on
my block left with a Christmas tree. Still decorated.
It’s almost February. I know this not only because of the cold weather, the muddy boot prints on my kitchen floor and my list of already broken resolutions, but also because I’m the only person on my block left with a Christmas tree. Still decorated.
Sure, we all know that January first is the Official Tree Undecorating Day, which really is the deadline that separates the Super-On-Top-of-It people from the Major Slackers.
And, yes, like most people who never return library books on time and pack up the summer pool toys in November, I belong in the latter category. Now, some of you might consider this “procrastination.” Others might think of it as being “organizationally challenged.” Me? I prefer to think of it more as “extending the holiday season.”
It may sound like it, but I’m not jealous of the people who are in the first category. I mean you have to respect a person who has their ornaments sorted by color, 50 feet of icicle lights wound up, and their tree on the front lawn ready for pickup by 12:01am New Year’s Day. No, I’m not jealous, just a little bitter and wishing they wouldn’t throw their post-Christmas season success in my face. You have to admit that they make the rest of us (and by “us” I mean “me”) look really, really bad.
Oh sure, I’ve learned to fool people for a while. The problem is that my tree, a once living, breathing entity, has to come out of the house eventually and head to the curb and then, boom-ba, the entire neighborhood will know that not only have I missed the Official Tree Undecorating deadline, but in fact I’ve missed it by weeks.
So I’m trying to think of some way to get rid of the tree incognito. I could be like my friend Patty, who each February tries to outwit her neighbors by chopping her tree into little pieces and taking it out at night in multiple garbage bags. But I don’t need to tell you that this conjures up even more – ahem – unflattering images. (And I don’t mean this as a criticism of my friend; it’s merely an observation).
Like most organizationally challenged people, each year I try to change my ways. And in the first week of January I turn to my family and say, “Will someone help me take down the tree?” to which they reply by immediately jumping up, putting on their coats and running outside.
So then I move on to the top three techniques of parental coercing: guilt, empty threats and begging. All of which, to the surprise of no one, don’t work either.
But if there’s one thing I learned all these years being a parent, it’s that sometimes it’s best to save up your energy and choose your battles. So this year I plan to buy an artificial tree with ornaments and lights already on it. All I will have to do is to fold the branches, slide it back into the box, and voila!
And if that doesn’t work, at least the house won’t look any worse by my leaving it up. In fact, I may just extend the holiday season by keeping it up next year, all year round. Hmmm. Maybe that’s how the Christmas in July sales started.
Debbie Farmer is a humorist and a mother holding down the fort in California, and the author of “Don’t Put Lipstick on the Cat.” You can reach her at
fa********@oa***************.com
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