She's a Mean One, Mr. Grinch

((Cross posted at The League of Reluctant Adults))

Yes, I know I should probably be doing a Christmas post, given the proximity to that particular holiday, but I’m not gonna. No way, not gonna make me. ‘Cause honestly, Christmas is my least favorite holiday. I know, you probably think this is going to boil down to a “commercialism at Christmas” rant, but I swear it’s not. What it really amounts to is that I am a lousy gift-giver.

No, I don’t have any trouble picking out presents for people. (well, most of the time) See, I’m smart enough to get a list and much like Rachel in Friends, STICK TO THE LIST. Shopping isn’t my problem. Where I find my downfall is that I’m supposed to WAIT to give these people these totally awesome gifts that I know they want!

What kind of sick, sadistic holiday IS this? “Here, it’s wrapped up all shiny and ribbony, just waiting to be torn asunder and enjoyed! But not yet!” Seriously?

I’m much more of an instant gratification kinda girl. For example: Hubby and I agreed not to do presents for each other until after Christmas. Which means, of course, that there are no less than three presents hidden around the house at this very moment for the man. The only reason I HAVEN’T given them to him yet is because I’m absurdly proud of my hiding places. (He’s reading over my shoulder right now. I think the only reason he hasn’t dashed off in search is because he’s well aware of my aforementioned weak will. He knows he’ll get them soon anyway.)

I love watching people open presents that they know I want, and I see no reason that I should wait until some pre-determined day of the year to indulge myself in this particular pleasure. This is why I’m notorious among my friends for giving them “wrapped” gifts. (Wrapped = in the bag I bought it in) Hey, they have to open it, it counts!

My child has figured this out at even her tender young age. She knows very well if she asks “Mommy, can I open one early?” that she’ll wind up with ALL of them open sooner rather than later. I know, I know, it’s a sickness. I can’t help it!

Right now, at this very moment, there are presents stashed all over this house, just screaming to be given. The voices, they haunt me.