In honor of the longstanding journalistic tradition of columnists punting it on holidays with shitty poems (lookin’ at you, Schmich), a work penned while waiting for my parents and sister to leave for Aunt Mary’s without me:
I truly love my family,
A love both earthly and ethereal.
But this Christmastime, I’ll sit alone
And binge-listen to Serial.
My Mom and Dad are lovely folks.
My sister is quite groovy.
But while they visit kith and kin,
I’m gonna watch a movie.
I think it’s time to walk the dog
And fill up her food saucer.
I think it’s time to read that book
Written by Eric Schlosser.
While they are at Aunt Mary’s place,
Full of love and Christmas cheer,
I’m going to sit on ass at home
And drink a bunch of… hot chamomile tea, Mom. Hot chamomile tea.
The love I feel breaks all bounds
And fills my heart each day.
Whether it’s Christmas, New Year’s or Hanukkah,
I’m all, like, “Family? YAY!”
But some years are recuperative
And some holidays not so great.
The gift they gave of alone time
Is one I appreciate.
So thank you, Mom, Dad, Liz and dog,
Thanks, Jonna and Aunt Mary,
For accepting my long day alone
Is needed, so so very.
To all the hermits and lone wolves,
To introverts with a hard slog
Toward convincing folks alone’s OK:
Get lost. I’m gonna play with the dog.
Merry Christmas to all and to all a fuck off!
A few nicer Christmas stories: