Let’s say your mother calls you on the phone and asks you what you want for Christmas. If you were anything like me up until this year, you would have been prepared. Out would come your 3 page laminated checklist with product prices, known locations, and acceptable replacements. The list would be sorted according to last known income of the askee, previous gifting practices and the overall closeness of your relationship. After all, if you don’t spell out exactly what you want you could end up with a closet full of re-gifts and a large stash of oversized holiday sweaters.
But there is a moment in everyone’s lives when the full force of adulthood “Windhams” you square in the eye and you find yourself muttering the dreaded “Oh I don’t care. I have everything I need” line. My theory is that regardless of age, this is the moment you know that you are no longer a child and have officially entered the “adult world”, a world I longed for in high school nd have since come to realize contains a lot more bills and a lot less debauchery than I had previously imagined. When you no longer want tangible things for Christmas, you know you’ve crossed over.
I realized this year that the thought of coming up with a list of more crap for my apartment that will be either broken or hopelessly un-cool in six months made me want to shoot my eye out. I realized that overpriced electronics and overvalued jewelry does not happiness make. I realized I am an adult.
Then I hear these songs like “Christmas shoes”, or as I like to call it “The emotional rape of the holiday season designed to make you either cry or want to break your car stereo” and “Grown up Christmas list” by Amy “everyone conveniently forgets that I am a home wrecker because I sing about love and peace” Grant and I realize that maybe I’m not so adult after all. True, I have just about everything I need in life: a healthy family, a great marriage, my ESPN TV package (I think the later contributes to the former. Not being able to see the Cats play every game makes my hormones a little ‘off’).
But if I was really honest, my ‘adult’ Christmas wish list this year would look something like this:
1. 8th UK national championship
2. Win over the filthy cards
3. 4th straight bowl win
4. John Wall stays one more year (this is my list and I’ll be as unrealistic as I please)
5. World Peace (probably more realistic than #4)
I know some of you are questioning my placing of ‘World Peace’ at number 5. I feel like putting something like “winning the SEC outright” would be a little superficial. But I did consider it.
I’m gonna guess that if I handed this list to my mother, she would look it over, smile, and then ask me what size sweater I’m wearing this year (she’s a spiteful woman). My dad would wonder why I’d want a championship over beating Louisville and my sister would wonder who John Wall is, whether he’s hot, and if he’s single. This whole Christmas gift thing was much easier when all I wanted was Nickelodeon Moonshoes and a Furby.
Purchasing gifts for others as an adult sucks too. Five years ago my mother was completely overjoyed at receiving an “ornament” made out of macaroni and Elmer’s glue. Now she thinks she deserves “grandchildren or an insulated coffee mug, but really grandchildren.” Too bad you can’t make one of those out of macaroni and Elmer’s glue. Adult Christmases are freaking depressing.
Whether you’re still editing and refining your own Christmas list, buying for others (BTI told me he wants a Tickle-me-Elmo. He’s a little behind the trends), or just begging Santa for one more year with John Wall (or wait…is John Wall really Santa Claus?) keep in mind that the best things in life can never be bought and that the real Christmas Day comes on January 2nd when we beat the living tar out of the Cards. But mom, I still want ‘Beatles: Rock Band’.
The best Christmas List ever: