Many years ago, my sainted wife, having become overcome with frustration while watching my mother open her fourth clear glass tea pitcher of the day, decided that enough was enough. The Dunnevant family had grown too large and unruly at Christmas. The opening of presents had become a disaster of duplicate gifts, misunderstanding and chaos. The lack of communication between family members had become embarrassing, as the great tea-pitcher debacle had proven. When Uncle Bill opened a present that same year and was surprised to find what appeared to be dog feces inside a bottle, he deadpanned...This is nice, but I asked for a SHIP in a bottle. So, having seen quite enough of this disorder, Pam sat about bringing the Dunnevant clan into the modern computer age. Thus was our Christmas website born, necessity being the mother of invention.
Not that I’m complaining, mind you. This website has been a Godsend. In all the years that this thing has been operational, I haven’t gotten one single duplicate gift...although I have had to endure many raised eyebrows whenever the subject comes up with outsiders...Wait, you guys have a Christmas family website?? Um, er...sorry, but I just remembered I have a root canal appointment, see ya later!!
But, I digress. What I really wanted to write about was this business of Christmas lists, and why I hate them. As instructed, I recently updated my Christmas List Google Doc, which involved eliminating everything that I had asked for and received from 2017. That left me with this sorry excuse for a list (or so I’m told)...
Of all the 28 family members currently enrolled on Christmas Central, I am told that my list is at once the shortest and the least helpful. What they don’t understand is how difficult it is for me to comprise such a list in the first place. When the first item on the list is gourmet beef jerky, that should give you a clue that I’m seriously grasping. The fact is that at this point in my life, there just isn’t anything that I want that anyone in my large family is capable of purchasing. Besides, I much prefer giving than getting, a fact that owes less to any altruistic instinct than it does to simple fact that giving is just more fun...for me...which I guess means...I’m selfish.
Of course, there’s something else about this list business that troubles me. The fact is that if I put what I really wanted on the list it would prove quite embarrassing. What responsible, mature, 60 year old man would ask for a squirrel catapult, the Deluxe Squirrel-Launcher 2000? Or, what normal man of my age and station in life would ask for the latest cutting edge technology Dolby surround sound remote control fart machine, or the very latest remote control electric zapper soup spoon? Could you imagine how hilarious it would be to watch old Uncle Ned spewing minestrone all over the table cloth while the spoon lands in the middle of the gravy boat?? Talk about your unforgettable holiday memories!!!
So...that’s out of the question, I suppose.