We are approaching that time of year again! We’re neck deep in the holiday season. Our faithful readers will recall my fondness for the holidays. What’s not to love about rampant consumerism, gluttony, and commercialism? In this spirit I present to you my traditional recipe for holiday chaos. Enjoy. I know I’ll be baking up a few batches this year.

½ cup of sleepless nights
1 cup of holiday music-imported directly from your nearest mall
2 heaping tablespoons of overspending
¾ cup of overeating
2 cups of advertisements reminding you of how few shopping days are left
1 cup of whatever virus is floating around

Dump all the ingredients together in a bowl and whip them all together in a very vigorous and over-exuberant manner. Let sit until after December 25. You’ll know it’s ready when your patience has been reduced to zilch.

Okay, okay. The holidays aren’t all prickles and thorns. I’ll admit there are a few aspects of the season that I enjoy.

My mother will inevitably wake me up much too early on Christmas morning with overly cheery exclamation of, “Wake up Keri! The sun is shining and the birds are singing!” This is a phrase that she’s used to wake me up since childhood, no matter the time of year. At this time of year, of course, it’s likely overcast and the birds have flown away to warmer climes long ago. Oh, God, how I wish I’d gone with them. However, it seems to endlessly amuse my dear mom to greet my just-woken-up self with this giddy expression. She knows I’m nowhere near a morning person. I can appreciate a good chain-yanking. She’s a crafty one.

There’s also that time during the Christmas meal when the chatter of the family becomes an ungodly squeal of everyone talking. Any one thing that is being said is entirely incomprehensible. Too much wine has been drunk and we’re all overly excited and happy to be together that at one point or another all of us are talking. We’re not necessarily talking to any specific person – we’re addressing the whole of the family. We’re all talking to everyone so utterly nothing is heard. It’s one of my funniest moments of the year.

There comes a point during the celebrations where my siblings and I revert to our most base method of communication. This means we’ll start chasing and slapping each other. Yes, I am talking about fully-grown adults in their 30s giving each other nuggies and piggyback rides. This should embarrass me but it doesn’t in the least. It’s childish and immature but that’s how we bond. Or that’s how I’m going to rationalize it to myself. Anyway, we were much worse when we all lived together.

When the festivities are over and the chaos has settled down, I can cuddle up with my husband and we can giggle over it all. That’s my favorite part: to return home and fondly recall all the events of the season and laugh about it for years to come. It all becomes loving recollections.

Keri lives in Boyle Street. What she celebrates the most about Christmas is the fact that it only comes once a year.