Merry Christmas?

Every year, there comes a time when we bring the best out of ourselves—Christmas: Smiling chubby babies, snowflakes on lashes, courteous shoppers holding doors, little old ladies with pies. ‘Tis an absolute joy, a Christmastide miracle! Actually, who am I kidding? We all know good and well Christmas is the ugliest time of year. Stores become the Hunger Games, and the odds are never in your favor. Old ladies will clothesline you for the last turkey, and soccer moms get scarier than Zulu warriors. Really, I dare you to step in front of Suzy Homemaker and try to snatch up the last set of Lego’s, see if she doesn’t lay you out flatter than fruit leather. My mother is one of the most elegant women you will ever meet. She has raised five children, run multiple businesses and is the greatest, most delicate helpmeet my father could ever ask for…however, I have seen her strong arm a woman for a cabbage patch doll so her baby could play with a smile (do you know how hard it was to find the brown one with light eyes?! DR wasn’t letting that go).

Mothers aren’t the only ones affected. My father spent this past weekend at Whole Foods looking for the perfect Chateaubriand to stuff and roast (for those of you not bourgie enough to know what that is, it’s a fabulous cut of beef that will make you lose your mind). When a man stepped in between him and the butcher, you can bet your sweet bippy he knew our lord and savior was coming to greet him soon. My cousin almost shanked a man over a Batman DVD (really, he made a shiv out of a Starbucks lid and the end of his headphones, don’t question it). It gets real in these streets, and this is in north Raleigh, NC, in a gated community, with more deer than people, so you can bet it gets realer.

Even in our own household, things get dicey. This morning when I put on my Christmas outfit, I think my little sister cursed me under her breath since she wasn’t dressed up. The baby sister went to changed clothes and said “This is all your fault you miserable runt” as she struggled into panty hose. My grandmother pinched me while I tried to drink my mimosa, right in the arm chub, and told me to get to baking cookies or get out, while my mother asked me what good I was doing if there wasn’t a sheet of cookies in the oven already (my cookies are bomb though so I understand). Only my older sister has been loving today, she shoved me, just once, and that was to get to the pancakes. It was a true bonding experience.

Now, I’m telling y’all all these things, not to say bah humbug Christmas sucks, but to say we need to embrace it for what it is. Not just the religious part, but also for what the season shows us in general; dysfunction. Dysfunction and chaos are not all bad, hell, it’s what makes Christmas fun if you ask me. If strolling through the store on Christmas Eve were the same as every other night of the year, where would my adrenaline rush come from? How else would I wrap the crap-ton of presents I bought? Where would we get the rest of our yearly awesome stories? A little crazy makes for a ton of fun, ask all the men that date crazy women, clearly there’s some joy in it. All the busy stores, crowded houses, long church services, add to the Christmas spirit. But hey, maybe I’m a special little snowflake out in this big snowdrift o’fun.

What say you? What are your favorite oddities about Christmas and how do you get through them? I’m partial to red wine and a nice crème puff (go head and feel free to send us some at the BB HQ), so I’m gonna go ahead and sip/nibble on that while I let you regale me with titillating tales.

Peace, Wine and Chocolate,

A. Nicole, a BossBeauty