No one is as pathetic as me when it comes to Christmas.  Really no one.  I mean I am totally throwing myself under the bus here.  Tammy on the other hand was built for Christmas.  It's in her blood, I think.  She just has a knack for this sort of stuff.  You know, the tree being up on a certain date, the right kind of festive music playing on the car radio, the decorations being up, nativity scenes of Jesus Mary and Joseph, a camel and a shepherd or two made from some cheap porcelain and painted by the tiniest indonesian fingers a world away, finely displayed on beds of white cotton and glitter -- yeah glitter.  I have no idea why there is glitter in the nativity, it's not like Jesus was all about pizzazz or sparkles or any other such nonsense, but it's there, sprinkled about the white cotton, because everyone knows that Jesus was born during a horrific snow storm, that somehow glistened in the sun directly after his birth.

She begins thinking about the holiday some time in October while I am still wondering how I am going to get by under the radar without haveing to wear a costume for Halloween.

Flashback to 1974:

I am 8 years old and my Mom has been slaving away all day making me a "home-made" costume to wear for a children's party.  All the kids at school that I know will be there and of course they will all be sporting the latest costumes bought and sold at the local department stores.  You know -- thin plastic mask--  a cape of some kind, or matching chest plate with a cape of some kind?  

My Mom being the true artist that she is decides to make the most unique costume I have ever seen or heard of since.  She buys a large balloon, blows it up to ginormous proportions and begins soaking strips of newspaper in this white milk-like substance (plastor of paris). Hours later, after drying she begins to paint it, and that is when I realize what she is doing.

She is making a very large jack-o-lantern.  It is beutifully painted.  I am in awe of this thing. It's not until the party that I realize that this thing she made IS in fact my costume.  She has bought me black panty hose to wear underneath.  

The idea is that I am to go to the party dressed as a very large Jack-O-Lantern with my head sticking out of the top, my arms inside and my silky and sheer black leggings (equipped with pantyshield) poking out from underneath.  It's classic and wonderful and I am freaked out. None of the other kids, except well maybe the girls, will be wearing panty hose.

I fought, and Mom gave in and let me wear my pants and a shirt (thank God).  She drops me off at the party -- all Jack -- and then when she drives off, but before I go inside, I removed the entire costume and go in as just John.  I don't know exactly why, but I was embarressed to wear this work of art that my Mom made. I did not want to be different.  I did not want to stick out or be unique or special or any of those other words that mean well, weird.  In the end, all the Moms at the party got to judge who had the best costune, and some kid won who was dressed as a mime.  I know, original right?  

As I prepared to go outside, one of the Moms noticed that I had not worn a costume, because there I was putting it on just then, to go meet my Mom at the car.  She saw what it was and drew the attention of the other Moms, who marveled over the giant orange wonder, and said that had I been wearing my costume they would have picked me as the winner.

I smiled, threw the costume over my head and onto my small frame, and headed out the door and to the car -- Jack was back --  for a moment. My Mom smiled as she drove me home.  I never told her that her work of art failed to get a decent review because her son was too embaressed to wear it.

So getting back to Christmas.  As many of you know, Tammy has been out for the count with her back giving her these muscle spasms from Hell.  So, growing weary of waiting for all the presents to get wrapped, and having to step over them in the bedroom, I decided to take it upon myself to wrap them all.

Wow.  What a dumb idea.  That was some of the most tedious grueling work I have done in awhile.  My butt, knees, elbows and neck are killing me.  As it turns out, wrapping presents is like playing one long tedious and painful game of Twister, but with no opponents, and no audience to cheer you on.

Tammy seemed to appreciate me doing this at least.  I guess, I am also glad it is done.  We have one more present to buy, I think, and then we are finished.  I am really not a grinch, really.  I think I am just lazy.  And obviously I like to keep a low profile.  Thus the Hallowen story above.