You Better Not Pout…

Ho, Ho, Ho. Yes, she is.

          The Monday after a holiday weekend is like recovering from a bender. We have actually focused our attention on getting our home and family ready for Christmas! The inside of our home looks like Vegas meets Santa’s workshop while the front of the house is always a work in progress until we tear it all down the day after Christmas. We adore Christmas and use it to its full advantage. What does that mean?  Well, we believe that the song ‘Santa Claus is coming to town’ was a gift to parents to keep their kids in line for at least a month. We are also firm believers that it is never too late to get off the naughty list and be nice.


          Lee says: Our faithful readers know that I am a Cuban American. My rearing was not unlike Sybil except for the abuse and piano playing mother. The world was doing one thing and my immigrant parents insisted on doing things the way they did things in the old country. Our Christmas’ were slightly different in that we really celebrated Christmas Eve and we didn’t eat ham or turkey. Instead we ate a whole roasted pig with white rice, black beans, yucca, garlic and turron (yummy confection from Spain). My parents would also celebrate the Epiphany or ‘Los Reyes Magos’ (The Three Kings) on January 6 and we would find gifts under our bed. These were usually non-cool gifts like that hard plastic doll that did nothing … or underwear.


          What transcended cultural boundaries and language barrier was ‘you better not shout, you better not cry, you better not pout I’m telling you why….’ .


The motto was always ‘behave or you get nothing’. My family also had other little traditions to fuck up a child, for example: if you touch a gift under the tree, Santa will take it away. Or the ever popular, ‘Let me have a conversation with Santa while I step in this hallway closet’.


          O.K. I was a little gullible but this season brought it out in me. I loved everything about it. I saw everything with a glow and still do. Sure the glow has dimmed but I can capture that gullible giddiness when I see my son’s reactions to the magic of the season. Being nice vs. naughty is not just a once a year thing, just like being innocent isn’t seasonal. This holiday is an example of what humanity can be and would be if we carried it through our whole lives.


          Yes, I love ‘A Christmas Carol’ but it doesn’t take some Dickensian nightmare to spur me on to be the best I can be. This season is my heart and on my mind all year long. I am sure Santa is watching me and I am making sure that I am always walking the right path whether it is being a good wife or mother or daughter or friend or customer. My relationship with others demonstrates who I am to the world. If I can be successful in my relationships, then I am a success in life. I am a wealthy woman because I have the support of a loving husband, great kids, amazing family and the best friends a bitch like me could ever hope for.


          I plan on having a fantastic Christmas this year and have a feeling Santa is going to be really good to me. I enjoy being nice and sometimes when I’m naughty I’m even better. Ask Paul.


          Paul says: Hell yes, I like the naughty! It’s interesting to me that this time of year brings naughty and nice to the same neighborhood. Somewhere around Thanksgiving, I don my halo and everybody and their brother do their damnedest to tempt me into naughtiness. They put presents with my name on them under the tree for me to see then tell me not to touch. How is a man supposed to state up against that kind of temptations?

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