Wednesday Words – Is Marriage That Bad?

Bride and Groom from the George Eastman Museum on Flickr Commons. Shared as there are no known copyright restrictions

Bride and Groom from the George Eastman Museum on Flickr Commons. Shared as there are no known copyright restrictions

Well I have to say marriage was the best thing that I ever did. Still amazed I found the half of my soul. BUT I think possibly this groom would agree with this Grouch Marx quote.

I was married by a judge. I should have asked for a jury.
~Groucho Marx

The Things I Don’t Miss About Christmas


Many people paint a rosy picture of their childhood Christmases.  In hopes of being a bit more practical I will admit there are many things I don’t miss about my childhood Christmases.  Not that they weren’t great Christmases but there are some things I’m thankful I DON’T have to do any more.

I don’t miss getting dressed up to sit around the house.  Yes, my Nanny (what I called my maternal grandmother)  required everyone to look like a Norman Rockwell painting but better dressed.  Didn’t work, I was uncomfortable in a dress or skirt and knee socks trying to play with my new toy.  Give me jeans any day and I’m a happy camper, better yet sweats to just wear about the house enjoying myself.

I don’t miss having to make my bed and display my gifts.  Well I didn’t HAVE to but my Nanny liked it. It did make writing thank-you notes much easier. Besides it’s easier to play with Barbies on a bed when you are in a skirt than in the floor.

I don’t miss the good china.  Yeah it’s nice and I carried that stupidity to a new level when I was a young married woman by having specific Christmas dishes (well we used them all winter because they were winter themed).  No really the meal tastes just as good on every day dishes and is much less stressful to do.

I don’t miss all the stupid school stuff.  When I was in 5th and  6th grade our class went about singing to different places and putting on some odd variety show.  We wore orange-yellow shirts with our names on them in fuzzy purple letters (our school colors were purple and gold but gold was expensive so orange-yellow stood in).  I’d “blossomed” to a C cup by the 5th grade and they had to shorten my name to fit on the shirt.  It looked like one of the girls is named Mary and the other Lou. I don’t miss that.

I don’t miss the oyster stuffing.  I like oysters steamed or smoked.  I don’t like them in stuffing.  Enough said.

I don’t miss the cut up stuff in the gravy.  Why my grandmother insisted on chopped  boiled egg and chopped turkey giblets put in the gravy is beyond me.  I like my gravy plain like my coffee.  They’re both beverages right?

Really, this time of the year many people wax nostalgic about their childhood Christmas.  However being the cynic with a good heart I don’t want to gloss over the stuff I didn’t like (besides Mary and Lou are still hanging around,  albeit a bit lower now). 

Yes, there are things about my childhood Christmases I miss.  They can all be summed up by one miss—I miss the anticipation.  I miss the build up to Christmas.  The excitement was so much I felt was going to burst and squirmed with delight at that feeling. It built so much until on Christmas Eve night I couldn’t fall asleep and my parents would take me on car rides to get me to go to sleep .  I’d be in my pajamas with a blanket watching the dark sky and Christmas lights go by until I fell asleep. 

No for me it’s gone.  I get glimmers here and there of the thrill.  The closest sustained anxious feeling like that is when I race from the car to the bathroom in Target wondering if I’ll make it in time. (Hey there’s anticipation and squirming involved with great joyous relief when I get there).  No the anticipation isn’t the same. 

Still looking on the bright side, I get to wear sweats, not wear the girls names about in public, enjoy a plain gravy while eating off my every day dishes, and skip making my bed that day.  All in all life’s pretty good.