It’s 7:08 on Christmas morning. How come the cat and I are the only ones awake? And who’s the kid in this family anyway? *drums impatiently*
As Joy is quick to remind me, when Indigo was born and we needed to figure out holidays, I didn’t even want to celebrate Christmas. “We’re Jewish Unitarian Universalists,” I said. “I don’t believe in Jesus Christ and all that.”
“Amy, you lead Christmas services every year!”
“Yes, well, that’s for my church . . . If I really celebrated the holiday that means the most to me, we’d just do Solstice.”
“Solstice, schmolstice,” she said. “I want presents!”
“So we’ll do Hanukah like when we were kids.”
“I celebrated Hanukah and Christmas when I was a kid.”
I snorted, though gently. “That seems like trying to have it all.”
“Yep! What’s wrong with that?” she said.
And that line of argument won. Being me, I have to justify it by recalling that I really am very happy Jesus was born. Happy birthday, Jesus!
Joy herself draws the line short of having a Christmas tree. However, the years of erosion from Indigo’s lobbying have led to this rosemary plant from Trader Joe’s now making back to back appearances. Indigo decorated it with earrings of mine. But we are definitely never putting up lights. Bah, humbug.
The stockings were hung from the postcard rack with care