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Warning: this is a humorous post. Not suitable for the faints of heart.
I hate Christmas. I hate the crappy last minute presents that nobody wants, I hate the relentless jaw-grindingly horrible music and I hate that it starts earlier and earlier each year. Unfortunately, as a confirmed Grinch, I did a very, very stupid thing. I married someone who is the embodiment of Christmas cheer. My husband has bought into the whole Christmas sham with the vigour of an Elf hyped up on candy canes. He loves the carols, he loves the tacky presents, he is a Christmas movie tragic, and his collection of trashy plastic decorations seems to be expanding exponentially (secretly disposing of them doesn’t seem to work either, they just come back with twice as much vigour). Oh, and he starts getting riled up about the whole thing mid-October.
I should have seen the warning signs when he first celebrated Christmas with my family. My mum couldn’t be bothered decorating so she had printed out a picture of a Christmas tree, and stuck it onto the wall in lieu of an actual tree. My then-boyfriend was HORRIFIED at this lack of Christmas cheer, and has spent every year since trying to rectify the situation. He is forever waxing lyrical about how much more ‘Christmassy’ Ireland is than Australia (like it’s some kind of bad taste competition), how every single house is always decorated within an inch of its life and every person you come across is brimful of Christmas merriment (not to mention it’s actually cold there in December, so all those tacky snow themed decorations and awful Christmas jumpers are a lot more appropriate. Try wearing an ugly sweater in 40C heat; it’s unpleasant to say the least).
Being in such a painful predicament every year, I have developed some coping mechanisms to deal with this heinous holiday and all those Christmas tragics who refuse to stop imposing it on others. Follow my advice and stay steadfast in your Grinchy convictions.
Table of Contents
Scratch up the Christmas CD
Ok, so it’s 2017 and the only place you’re going to find a CD is the history museum, but you get the gist. Delete that Spotify playlist, and replace it with something more pleasant sounding like the collected works of Nickleback. Seriously, how can a holiday that champions Michael Bublé continue to be celebrated?
Shop in September like you are shopping for Armageddon. For the next few months, fresh food is out and canned food is in. There is nothing more traumatic than shopping centres during the holiday season, so avoid them like the Christmas plague that they are, and you can enjoy your spam and baked beans comforted by the knowledge that you are not going to be involved in car park related screaming matches, or have to witness elderly ladies pulling out some serious MMA moves as they get physical over the last Christmas pudding.
Schedule Important Surgery
This may seem like an extreme option, but if you schedule some surgery during the holiday season, chances are you’ll be too spaced out to really be affected by the Christmas cheer, and you’ll have the added benefit of being able to excuse yourself from family events (and thus avoid all those weird family members you’d never see by choice) due to recovery. If you don’t have any major surgeries coming up, try booking a last minute trip to a country that is low on the Christmas spirit. Like North Korea.
Hide the Remote
At this time of year, television is saturated with saccharine Christmas movies. So twee, so jolly, always with some stupid moralising story that makes me want to vomit up the whole box of mince pies I ate in one sitting. Losing the remote or accidentally dropping the TV until it breaks is the only sure way out of this purgatory. Failing that, Die Hard totally counts as a Christmas movie.
Be your own Secret Santa
Whether in an office setting or family situation, buying a Secret Santa gift for someone you don’t know that well can be a painful process. You’ll probably spend ages agonising over the perfect gift, only to be on the receiving end of a knitted tea cosy from Aunt Gladys or a stapler that Toby from HR nicked out of the supplies closet at the last minute. My solution to this is to take charge of the whole debacle, which may seem un-grinch like, but it means that you can engineer the outcome to become your own Secret Santa. That alone will turn Secret Santa from being a chore to ‘treat yo-self’.
Get drunk. Stay drunk. Let the whole holiday season pass in an alcoholic blur. Then jump on the ‘new year, new me’ bandwagon with everybody else come January.
I feel like this list is only the beginning, because despite all my best efforts I have failed to dim my husband’s Christmas joy, in fact it only seems to grow stronger every year like some kind of Yuletide Chuck Norris. But I’m not giving up hope and neither should you, so stay true to your Grinch beliefs and don’t drink the eggnog.
Where oh where did I go wrong.