NO HO HO: By Rebecca Morse 

‘Tis the season to be jolly. And merry. And bright. Yet every holiday season I am a Grinch, with Scrooge rising.

The no, no, no to your ho, ho, ho, if you will.

I’ve been feeling festively triggered since October, when I walked through Marion Shopping Centre on a mission to buy school shoes because my middle child had lost hers. A frustrating excursion during which I was told by the sales assistant that it was a bad time of the year to buy school shoes. Pray tell, when in fact is it ever a good time to fork out top dollar for shoes that aren’t for me?

I digress. During this frustrating excursion my already-simmering, mall-related anxiety was exacerbated by the sighting of multiple giant Christmas trees and Santa’s photo cave thingy. The man in red would be appalled. Let the guy get past the Pageant before you start reminding him he has to have multiple kids sitting on his knee imminently.

It’s the Christmas to-do list which has me hyperventilating.

At least my kids aren’t in primary school any more. Shout out to the kindy/primary school parents during this difficult time. The nativity costumes! That last minute rush to K-Mart to find a tea towel or some angel wings depending on what role your cherub had been cast in for carols that year.

Actually to be honest that’s made me a twinge nostalgic now my daughters have quit choir. Maybe do enjoy those days while they last. Face with welling happy tears emoji.

Then there are the gifts. The class Kris Kringle. With a five dollar limit. Except no one sticks to that limit so if you do you look like the class tight arse.

Now the gifts for the teachers I can get around. Believe me the least I can do for my kids’ teachers is regift a bottle of bubbles and some apricot and fig hand cream after they’ve largely turned a blind eye to their frequent tardiness and my crippling inability to master the online parent-teacher interview system.

And can we talk about the crammed Christmas calendar? (a crammed Advent calendar I will allow). 

The friends you haven’t seen all year who say we MUST have a Chrissy catch up! Then you feel like you have to get them a little something-something and you exchange scented candles every year until you die.

I must also confess to being haunted by the Ghosts of Christmas Cooking Failures Past. No one in the history of “just bring a salad” has ever butchered one like me. My deepest apologies for the disrespect I have brought to the Ottolenghi name. It will live on in family lore the time I overcooked his soba noodle recipe and served up a brown sludge that remained on the buffet table long after the Caprese and Watermelon & Feta salads had been eagerly devoured.

In an effort to force myself to get festive one year I even invested in some Christmas lights for the front yard. The dog chewed through them on night one. He gets it.

The perceptive among you will have already determined when I put the tree up. I don’t wait for the Christmas Pageant. I wait for a date that has December in it. And it’s packed down on New Year’s Day depending on the level of the headache.

Friends, it is here that I must check my privilege. I recognise that there are many who have far more significant worries over this time than what weekend to put the tree up. They may be celebrating Christmas without a loved one or struggling to afford gifts and food. So if you are able, please add donations to local charities which support those less fortunate to your to-do list.

And have a Merry Christmas ya filthy animals! 

Bec xxx

If you’re wanting ideas on how to give back this Christmas, from donating toys to volunteering, check out Teaching kids the joy of giving this Christmas

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