Christmas Crazy

My mom loves Christmas. She has always made it magical at our house for the holidays. For as long as I can remember, she's been "over the top" with decorations. This year, as I helped my dad carry all the stuff in from the barn, I counted all the boxes Mom had collected. We had twenty-one totes, nine boxes, three trees (a 9' and two 4'), and two wreaths, not to mention Dad's outdoor things.

We, of course, have the standard items:

A Christmas tree,

stockings by the fireplace,

a wreath on the door,

garland on the stairs...

But then we get a little more intense:

Decorations on top of every curio cabinet and hutch,

redundant decor,

(hmm, the antlers seem out of place)

replacement holiday-themed dog toys...

Then she goes to a whole other level of Christmas crazy. Nothing is safe.

Eating in the kitchen is difficult.

Not even the lamps are spared.

Don't get me wrong: I love Christmas crazy. It's contagious. It makes the season more magical being completely engrossed in the Wonder of it all. Once, when I was little, Mom even wrapped all the pictures hanging on the walls and put bows on them so it looked like we had presents hanging everywhere. It was completely awesome (but Mom realized it was a waste of expensive wrapping paper and never did it again. Awr.)

Despite all the giddy awesomeness of Christmas at my house, there is one piece that I dread getting out each year. It's great and horrible all at the same time.

I call it "Satan Santa."

Satan Santa was a clearance impulse buy at Sears a hundred years ago. I think he was broken, or maybe his soulless beedy green eyes terrified too many people, but Mom bought him anyway. Over the years he has been given many names: "The Christmas Demon," "Creepy Dude," "The Pedophile"... As much as we all hate him and give him these names, we can't bring ourselves to get rid of him.

You see, Satan Santa holds a tray in his hands and in that tray my mom keeps a constant supply of delicious candy. Reese's, Snickers, Nestle Crunch, Hershey's-- anything "miniature" sized is in there. If we pick out all the Nestle Treasures, Mom refills them and perpetuates the creepy candy man cycle of terror. Mmmm. Tasty, tasty terror.

And there you have it. That's what Christmas looks like at my house. I left out things like the holiday plates and the snowman butterknives but I think you get the idea.

Merry Christmas!!!