Decorate for Christmas? Why?

I went to visit some friends after work on Friday. Kirk and Rey. We had dinner together and after dinner, Kirk opened a bottle of Niagara ice wine and poured three glasses. Then he proposed a toast.

"To friends, and to a Merry Christmas."

We raised our glasses and drank, then Rey said, "Hey, let's put up our Christmas tree!"

It was a tiny tree, Ms J, and in no time, it was decorated. Rey hung some lights and some green garland and set out a few ornaments.

"Tah-dah!" she said triumphantly, raising her arms in mock victory. "That didn't take long, did it?"

Indeed, it didn't take long. Half an hour, maybe. And it looks lovely.

I've been thinking of putting up my Christmas tree, but to be honest with you, I dread it. Well I don't dread it, Ms J. Not exactly. I just don't want to do it. I don't feel like it. I can't be bothered to search the cellar for boxes and bags and haul it all upstairs and assemble the tree and string hundreds of lights on it and hang balls and various other gew-gaws and decorate the mantle and hang the stockings and ...

Well, you get the idea.

As I said the other day, I used to enjoy Christmas. I used to feel excited about it when the kids were small. But as I've gotten older, the religious and spiritual part of Christmas has become more important while my interest in its cultural traditions has diminished. I don't want to put up a tree this year.

"Oh, but you have to," says my annoying and ever-present inner critic. "Everybody has a Christmas tree. Don't be such a Scrooge. You're just lazy, that's all. What about the kids? What will they think if Dad doesn't bother to put up a tree? And where're you gonna put their gifts, Numbnuts? In a pile in the corner?"

"Bugger off and mind yer own business," I tell him. But he won't leave me alone.

"Christmas was shite last year," I tell him. But he won't shut up about it.

I suppose I could get some friends together some night and have a bit of a tree trimming party. Frankie would help, if I asked her. So would Christine. And Bob. Andra. Kirk and Rey would too, I'll bet. Any of them would be glad to help. All of them, if I asked.

I just don't know if I want to ask. I just don't know why I have to decorate the bloody house for a few weeks and then take it all down again, put it in cartons, and store it away for another year.

"Scrooge. Where's your Christmas cheer? C'mon, play some Christmas music and get into it."

Give it a rest, will ya? Just give it rest. Gimme some peace on Earth. And then peace off!

***