Hey you – the crazy lady in the mirror with bags under her eyes and a sizable zit from stress-eating too much chocolate.
Did I really just hear you refer to gingerbread men as “little fuckers?” As in, “how am I ever going to find time to bake those little fuckers?”
You’re missing the whole point and you know it. Christmas could be tomorrow and it would be perfect. The magic has already happened.
The kids are more excited about picking out gifts for each other than they are about their own Christmas loot. Everyone worked together to decorate the house. It looks like it’s been styled by Martha Stewart’s quirky, possibly drunk sister – and it’s awesome. Putting the kids in charge of Elf on a Shelf on weekends so mom and dad could be surprised was a brilliant move. Soak this in.
You know that the only thing you want everyone to remember about Christmas this year was how much they laughed and how much they loved. Nothing that can be wrapped will ever do that.
So stop this nonsense. Get some sleep. Go for a swim. Enjoy your friends and family. And by all means, knock off the frenzied shopping and use the extra time to bake those little gingerbread fuckers – they’re one of the best parts of Christmas.