I love when my house is decorated for the holiday season, but I dread hauling all those boxes from the basement and getting it all on display. Nearly always, someone ends up with a bodily injury: bloody cuts from paper or ornament hooks or thumbs bashed when hanging up wreaths to name a couple, but the worst is the ladder. Yes, climbing the ladder to hang lights and mistletoe. My son thinks that it is time to perform a variety of dismounts off the ladder and begs me to film it, so he can post it online for all his friends to see. He refuses to let me take a picture of him anywhere near the gross mistletoe.
“How did a twig come to represent getting kissed? Trust me I look out for it anywhere I go and run the other direction.” Oh, the workings of a 10-year-old boy’s mind.
All the same we make our own rituals around the day. Before the boxes are hauled up, I start the Loaded Baked Potato Soup on the stove to simmer. As I start putting ornaments on the tree, I have to tell my son the story behind every ornament that I hang. Even with his eyes rolling, I know that he enjoys it as he finishes my sentences.
Finally, with everything decorated and boxes put away, we eat our much-anticipated hearty bowl of soup surrounded by twinkling lights, appreciating all of our hard work. This is comfort food at its best. I put lots of cheese on top of my soup, but Gabriel goes straight for the bacon.
We decide we are both looking forward to the holiday season ahead.