Since twilight Christmas Day not a day has gone by that I haven't mentally or physically yelled "IT'S NOT. BLOODY. OVER." at least once. Particularly at my mother, who, bless her, is most deeply affected by the depressing anticlimax that follows Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. While she picked wanly at the leftovers of all the Christmas candy she made, I inhaled her cayenne brittle and pumpkin bark with gusto, making the most of the two-week-long prohibition against fasting that follows the Feast of the Nativity and runs until Epiphany (or, to use a more Eastern term, Theophany). At the nadir of her post-Christmas slump the following conversation ensued:
Mom: Well. It's all over. All that excitement for one day, and it's all over.
Me [thickly, with a mouthful of homemade pralines]: No 's not.
Mom: ...what?
Me: Chrissmas 's not over. Not til 'piphany. Where's th' bourbon balls?
Mom: Well, it may not be over for yall, but it is for the rest of us.
Me [finishing off the last of the pralines]: Nuh uh. Christmas is for everyone. It says so. In the Bible.
Mom [sighing]: It's just sad that we do all this and in one day it's over.
Me [cajolingly]: Well if that's the way you insist on looking at it, you could just become Orthodox, and then you'd have two weeks of Christmas.
Mom: Nnnno thank you.
Me: Well. I tried.
So, yeah. For the next week and a half, I'll be that crazy girl humming O Come All Ye Faithful and begging her parents not to take the Christmas tree down. =)
Christ is born! Glorify Him!
No comments:
Post a Comment