For people who know me, I am a bit of a Scrooge.
When the Christmas season rolls around every year I can not help but to cringe. The idea of spending hours upon hours decorating my house with little bits of shiny festive what not (that my cats will spend the next few months trying to vanquish) sort of gives me an eye twitch. I just hate doing it.
I think that my hatred for the tradition of decorating for Christmas goes back to my youth, no my adolescence. I can actually remember enjoying this sort of thing when I was a child, but somewhere as I approached being a teenager it became something that I just really did not want to do. I know, a teenager who did not want to participate in family traditions and functions, try and contain your shock.
Still my angsty moody age aside, I was expected to participate in the 'family fun'. My mother was notorious for demanding that we have a good time. Family vacations and holidays did not come with an optional good time and happiness. No we were all to be happy shiny people loving every family moment, or else.
In my mothers defense, this thought process is apparently genetic, because my Grandmother can also be a holiday Nazi of sorts. Of course Gram has been more known for having violent reactions to holidays than my mother has (the year she punched out my Aunt who was 6 months pregnant with twins, or the Thanksgiving where she cooked a completely frozen 30 pound turkey to perfection and served it in under two hours out of sheer spite and hate).
Anyways, all those years of being forced into the holiday spirit more than a little killed it for me.
I was so happy to be away from home and never have to think about twinkle lights or tinsel again.
Then I went and married a perpetual five year old.
The husbeast loves all things bright and shiny and reminiscent of happy times gone by; giant twinkling fir trees, rows of colored lights, strings of popcorn, and tinsel hanging off of every surface that will stand still long enough to be draped in it. All the things that I want nothing to do with.
I told him for years he was welcome to decorate himself, just never ask me to help. I don't mind the house being all dressed up, I just want nothing to do with the dressing. Also I refused to help take it down once the holidays were over. Only you see the husbeast, bless his heart, is a lazy lazy lazy beast. So holidays never happened in our house for years.
Then one year I got soft, and for his present, I decorated the house. I did it in secret while he was out with the boys one day. When he walked in the door, well let us just say a 6 year old on Christmas morning had nothing on my husband. He was thrilled. That was enough for me.
So now every year I do minimal decorating (takes me 20 minutes) and he is ecstatic about it. I suppose it is the least I can do.
That being said there are still some holiday traditions I neither get nor will participate in.
Among them is dying Easter Eggs.
First: We do not celebrate Easter.
That glaring fact aside...
B: We do not eat eggs.
I mean we eat eggs, but we do not eat hard boiled eggs. The husbeast eats deviled eggs and scrambled eggs, and I occasionally will eat a fried egg, but hard boiled eggs? No.
So these colorful eggs would just you know, rot.
Thing the last: We do not hunt eggs.
We have no children that would hunt eggs, we belong to no organization that would run an egg hunt, we don't even have neighbors we hate enough to hide eggs in their yard so that in a week or so the stench makes them ill.
So again we would have a bunch of colorful eggs that will just rot.
And don't even get me started on the process of dying eggs. The smell is horrid. Why would I want my house to smell like egg and vinegar? And it is so incredibly messy. We may be adults, but I guarantee you we could not dye eggs without creating a mess of epic proportions. A mess might I add that I would have to clean up.
So there I would be with a couple dozen colorful eggs waiting to rot on my counter and a giant mess to clean up in my now fragrant vinegar and egg smelling house.
Why? Why would I do this?
I am certain it is all good and fun for some people. Some egg eating, child laden, holiday-centric people.
Just not me.