Dear Holidays,

I have vested so much time and so many memories in the lot of you. And it just so seems that you become more irascible as I become older. Nay, for I still try to capture your spirit, and in the past I've done so with effortless capabilities.

But this year! Your pull and tug have nearly won me out.

I am talking about these schedules, Holidays. I've decided to address you for what you've neglected to give me after all these years - peace of mind! The simplicity of being a child is that you come and you go and I was lucky to make a batch of sugar cookies. And now I am lucky to claw my way out of the kitchen looking halfway presentable after I've battled the spritzer for hours and mushed the gingerbread dough for nearly as long and burned the chocolate ganache petit fours not once but twice!

Oh, Holidays! I once greedily stole pine needles from the tree to scent my entire bedroom and now you've left me so poor I can hardly afford to buy a tree at all. A handful of cranberries float in a bowl of water and a fragrant pine candle tricks my mind long enough to take hold of that yesteryear magic you once shared with me.

The jingle from my mother's crystal snowflakes.

The cookie dough caught in the snowman cutter.

The tree lights that shined on the walls in the early morning hours before school.

You've granted me poor schedules, heralded my kitchen incompetency, ruined my meager finances, and now you threaten to take away these best, last memories.

Not today, Holidays!

I will not collapse under your pressure. I will survive.

And I will drink my eggnog with pleasure.

Happy Holidays, Holidays.

From,

The One Who Forgot to Stay Young