Christmas Update: This Entry Should Be Blank

Except for the festive wreaths on the doors--I'm one of those people who likes to hang seasonally-appropriate wreaths all year round, both indoors and out--I haven't done a darn thing for Christmas yet. Not even the tree.

I have some beautifully lush, silk poinsettia arrangements that I like to put out every year, but they're still put away because I'm afraid the dogs will chew them up the second my back is turned. They've already chewed up two "year round" silk flower arrangements I had in the living room, and last week one of them chewed a hole in one of the sofa cushions.

I don't even want to think of what they might do to the tree. In previous years, our biggest problem has always been Baby Bear's penchant for plucking off the ornaments and using them as bowling balls.

Aside from the wreath on the front door, we don't do much in the way of exterior decoration. Mr. Lucky just isn't into it, though one year, he did manage to conjure enough holiday spirit to put up a string of lights. When we lived in houses that had posts along the front porch, I would wrap those in tinsel, but our new house doesn't have posts.

When the Crown Prince was still living at home, he would start the Christmas mantra right after Thanksgiving dinner. No sooner did he swallow the last bit of cranberry sauce, than he would start rapping out, "Christmas tree up, Christmas tree up, Christmas tree up," beating away like that beefy guy in Ben-Hur who sat at the front of the ship with a hammer in each hand, banging on a well worn drum to keep the galley slaves steadily rowing, and making them go faster by yelling, "Battle speed!" followed by, "Attack speed!" and finally, "Ramming speed!"

Now that the Crown Prince has moved out, our ship is adrift. Not only is the tree not up, but I haven't done the Christmas cards, and I haven't done the necessary shopping. Not even online, and I'd be cutting it pretty darn close if I tried to do it now. I'm not willing to chance it.

I'm going to have to go out next week, and fight the mobs. By myself, without Mr. Lucky who, since retiring from the military, likes to go with me everywhere.

Not that I resent that, for I actually like going out with him. But how am I supposed to buy him that obligatory ugly necktie or soap-on-a-rope when he's always hovering around me? I absolutely must be on my own to do that, so I can savor that precious look of surprise on his face when he opens those gifts Christmas morning.

Much like the one on my face when I open my gift to find The Magic Soap Scum Remover that folds up to fit in your gym bag, your purse, even your back pocket; and when you turn it upside-down, look! It becomes The Magic Dog Hair Remover! Now you can throw out those wads of masking tape.

Says Mr. Lucky: "But the guy on the commercial said it makes a really great gift!"

How much do you think he shelled out for it? Don't ask until I show you what else he got me--a mini-vacuum with special attachments for dusting ceiling fans, removing cobwebs, and even those hard to reach louvres in the air conditioning vent!

Says Mr. Lucky: "But the guy on the commercial said the special cobweb removal attachment was free if I called in the next ten minutes!"

Never fear, we usually get each other what we really want (though he's still not getting that big flat screen TV this year). But no way will I go Christmas shopping on a weekend. First thing this Monday morning, I'm getting into the minivan by myself and driving out at battle speed.

Once I get into the Great Shopping Vortex that swirls around the local mall, I'll shift into attack speed.

Let's just hope I don't go into ramming speed out in the parking lot.