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Carol Perkins: Miss Christmas Happiness Previous Column: The Perfectionist By Carol Perkins As I write this article, it is Christmas Eve. Families gather, open gifts, and eat an enormous meal. Most often, wrapping the gifts, preparing the food, cleaning up the mess, stocking the bathrooms with toilet paper, setting the table, and timing the rolls so they don't burn all fall on Mama. She is in charge of Christmas Happiness. As the extended family members, numbering twenty or more, fill their plates, Mama is likely putting ice in the glasses and pouring whatever each person wants to drink who passes through the line before meandering to the dining room, living room, or wherever they eat. For the last few days, she has been stockpiling ice so as not to run out. Desserts fill a long, folding table and disappear before she has tasted the cold mashed potatoes on her plate. They savor Mama's famous German chocolate cake until only crumbs remain, and the pecan pie disappears just as fast. The jam cake remains plentiful. The men soon move to another room, leaving their dirty plates and rubbing their stomachs, vowing this was the best meal yet. The ladies sit with Mama, the last to eat, drink coffee, and talk about those who aren't there. To Mama, this is the best part of the meal because it's over. The children are clamoring, "Let's open gifts," so she "scrapes" the dirty dishes and stacks them for later. "Later" never comes for a couple of the ladies, who are renowned for never getting their hands dirty. After the last guest left, the last dish washed, and the dirty floor swept, Dad said, "I think everyone had a good time. We need to make this a tradition." She looked at him as if he had two heads, took a sleeping pill out of the cabinet where she hid them, and left him in the light of the tree to wonder what was wrong. Miss Christmas Happiness turned to him, "I'm all for tradition, but next year, you can be in charge." He scratched his head, clueless. "In charge of what?" Up the stairs she dashed to read "The Night Before Christmas" to the children. After all, it was a tradition. You can contact Carol at carolperkins06@gmail.com. This story was posted on 2024-12-26 13:05:37
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Have comments or corrections for this story? Use our contact form and let us know. More articles from topic Carol Perkins:
Carol Perkins: The Perfectionist Carol Perkins: Hip-Hop Nutcracker Carol Perkins: The Window Carol Perkins: Away They Go! Carol Perkins: Thanksgiving Carol Perkins: In the Pursuit of Happiness Carol Perkins: Friends and Family Weekend Carol Perkins: Words Matter Carol Perkins: Happy Birthday to Me Carol Perkins: The Bake Sale View even more articles in topic Carol Perkins |
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