Thursday, December 22, 2011

Norman Rockwell Sucks

This time of year the number one thing on my list of things to do is to get an assistant.  Not that I in any way professionally need one but personally I need a small staff.

If I just had someone I could hand a list to and say "Be a doll and get these things done for me."

Sure I have teenagers around the house but I need someone who doesn't know I will love them no matter what and is depending on a paycheck.  Someone who is goal oriented and can't use the term "I forgot...".

It always seems like on December 23rd that if I had just one more day I could get it all done.  Just 24 measly hours and I could pull the Norman Rockwell Christmas out of my butt.

All the gifts would be wrapped with shiny bows instead of thrown in gift bags.

The Christmas dinner would be organized and shopped for with the appropriate serving dishes awaiting them.  I would label each dish with a little post it note so I would know just where my yummy homemade tradition building creations would go.

All the camera batteries would be charged and with all my time freed up from having an assistant I would have time to read the owners manual and I would actually know how to use them.

I would have a stunning outfit picked out to descend the stairs in on Christmas morning.  After all I would want to look great for the professional like footage of the perfect Christmas I was about to shoot. Of course I would need a crisp ironed apron to wear as I put all the homemade pies in the oven to bake during the festivities.

Oh, if only these things had a snowballs chance in hell of happening.  If only I wouldn't end up in sweats, making jiffy cornbread and cursing under my breath.  One thing I can guarantee is that our Christmas won't be anything good ole Norman Rockwell would want to preserve forever.  But it will be ours, filled with love and laughter and a great deal of self ridicule on my part.

After all the kids have to have something to complain about in therapy, don't they?

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