Dear Reader: This is an excerpt from my book, Laura On Life: Wahoo for Dinner!
There is a season for plumbers. It's called the Holiday season. It
never fails. I don't know if it's because of the increased number of
guests that need to use your bathroom or that December is the time for
all humans to shed hair. But whatever the reason, nearly every holiday
season, I have trouble with my drains.
I love the Holiday season with all of its ups and downs, and I
usually have a lot more ups than downs (especially with my drains).
However, I could use a little help during this time of year since there
are so many things that need to be done.
For example, I love to shop for gifts, but I don't like to wrap them.
You can't give a naked gift, though. It's just not done. So I need some
help wrapping. Does Merry Maids do that?
I would love to buy a "wow!" gift for each person on my list. The
problem is that "wow!" gifts are pricey and I never seem to have enough
money to get exactly the right thing for everyone. Of course, I also
want to put a little something in that red pot hanging next to the guy
ringing the stupid bell. I figure if I pay him, he'll stop ringing the
darn bell. He's not bribable, though.
I love to eat Christmas cookies. The smell of anise and chocolate
chip cookies brings back so many wonderful memories. But I burn at least
50% of everything I bake and that smell is not very nostalgic. Now,
because of my incompetence, my kids' memories will be that of burnt
cookie dough. My Great-great-grandchildren will probably burn a batch of
cookies every year in memory of me.
I'm not exactly a creative cook either, but my turkey and stuffing
usually come out moderately decent. What I wouldn't give for the skills
of Julia Childs, though. To be able to put on a spread that deserves a
standing ovation is a long-term dream of mine. Instead, my cooking tends
to result in loose fillings. Remember that popular holiday favorite:
"All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth"? That kid's mother
must've been a lousy cook, too.
One thing that annoys me is that I can never find a big enough turkey
at the grocery store. I need a 24-pound turkey for our large family,
but the largest I can find is 18 pounds. Do two 12-pound turkeys have
the same amount of meat and stuffing capacity as a 24-pounder? This is
something I should know by now.
The point is, I need certain things during the Holidays that I don't
usually need. The number one thing is... time; time to finish all the
cleaning chores that we women obsess about. Your door knobs can have
grape jelly on them all year long, but not during the holidays. As a
result of all this cleaning, my hands are as dry as the Sahara in July.
So I need lotion and rubber gloves.
Throughout all of this pre-holiday activity, I still need to type out
my column, too. I could use a few typists just to do that. Of course,
my computer needs to work for that, and it tends to break down just when
I am the busiest. My husband is a technological wizard, but he's
sometimes too busy fixing other people's computers to deal with my
"little problems". I need some little, tiny, on-call, elf-nerds living
inside of my laptop. They can fix it when it glitches. Maybe Santa has a
few of those lying around.
I need folding chairs, folding tables, folded napkins, and maybe even
someone to fold the laundry. I wonder if the Wrapping Merry Maids would
fold laundry too?
Most of all, I need sleep, which being as exhausted as I am would
almost certainly be possible if my true love was not also a sleep-talker
and a blanket-stealer.
When, on the twelfth day of Christmas, he -my true love - asks what I want for Christmas this year, I'll tell him:
Twelve Plumbers plumbing
Eleven Typers? typing
Ten Lords a-sleeping (I'll settle for just one)
Nine Ladies baking
Eight Maids a-wrapping
Seven Hundred Dollars
Six Teeth a-staying
Five Folding Things
Four Calling Nerds?
Three French chefs
Two Rubber Gloves
And a Twenty-four pound turkey
If my true love will grant me these things for Christmas, I will
never again ask him to fix my computer, wrap a present, or take a
plunger to our toilet.
Laura Snyder is a nationally syndicated columnist, author & speaker. You can reach Laura at lsnyder@lauraonlife.com Or visit her website www.lauraonlife.com for more info.