I’m not cut out for the Christmas Card-mailing life
It’s pretty much a holiday miracle that no one ever seems to question why you feel obligated to send Christmas cards to your friends and family as you get older.
As a single twenty-something, I never once felt compelled to mail them out over the holidays. For one thing, it would’ve been hard to find an entire box of Christmas cards at Shoppers Drug Mart that contained just the right message.
May the spirit of giving fill your heart this season and also I just beat Shadows Of The Empire for GameCube while eating Cool Ranch Doritos.
Since getting married and becoming a parent, though, that unspoken pressure to return the festive gesture to friends and family seems to have grown.
Wishing you a magical holiday season and a wondrous new year.
What does that even mean?! Why do I have to start speaking to my buddies like Dumbledore just because it’s Christmas?! Listen, here’s my wish: I hope there’s a month where you open your hydro bill and think, “Well, that’s not as much as I expected.” As for maintaining your yuletide cheer, goodwill and wonderment, I have no idea.
Even if you opted for blank Christmas cards, there’s still the issue of taking a festive photograph that measures up to everyone else’s. How far are people driving to find these Nordic ski chalet backgrounds?! This is Ontario! My car would run out of gas before finding an outdoor photo location that doesn’t include a pothole or a Tim Hortons franchise.
While I love receiving them, I’m just not cut out for the Christmas card-mailing life. If you absolutely need to have one from me this season, please cut out this column and spray it with Reindeer’s Musk Febreze.
Have a wondrous weekend!