Story 638: What Can I Give for Father’s Day?

 WEDNESDAY 

“Hi kiddo, what’s up?”

“Hey Dad, just calling to ask what can I give for Father’s Day this Sunday?”

“Oh, gee, thanks, but Father’s Day’s actually the following Sunday.”

“…Dangit!” <CLICK>

“Hello?... This kid, I’m telling you….” 

THE FOLLOWING WEDNESDAY 

“Hi kiddo, what’s up?”

“OK, for real this time: what can I give you for Father’s Day this Sunday?”

“Heh-heh, right, yeah – you don’t have to give me anything: your existence alone is present enough for me.”

“Oh come on!”

“You know, your mother and I try to give you an easier life than we had, and yet you insist on undermining that at every opportunity.”

“I can’t just not give you something on Father’s Day!  It’s up there with birthdays – gifts are obligatory, or else you might as well quit the entire family!”

“What?”

“Please, just tell me you want something that you’d never get for yourself: concert tickets – a motorcycle – a football team?!”

“<Sigh> Fine, you can get me… socks.”

“….”

“….”

“Socks.”

“Yeah, the ones I have are getting worn out and I need new ones for pickleball.  The white athletic kind, you know, that I can wear with my sneakers and pull up over my calves.”

“….”

“….”

“You’re making fun of me, aren’t you.”

“You can be a bit dramatic, but new socks really are what I would like.”

“Very well, Father: if socks are what you want, then socks are what you shall get.”

“Why does that sound like a threat?” 

SUNDAY 

“Happy Father’s Day!”

“Hiiii… What’s… all… this?”

“Socks!  Just like you wanted!”

“But you’re trucking in so many bags here – how many pairs did you get?!”

“A year’s supply, so now none of them will have a chance to wear out!”

“Oh my… thank you?”

“Certainly!  Nothing’s too good for MY FATHER ON FATHER’S DAY!”

“Just one more thing.”

“Anything!”

“Put all of them away somewhere before your mother sees them.”

Story 633: What Can I Give for Mother’s Day?

            “Oh hi honey, what’s up?”

“Well, I’m calling in a panic right now, an absolute panic!”

“Dear me, why’s that?”

“Because Mother’s Day is this Sunday, and I have absolutely no idea what to give you this year!”

“Aw honey, you know you don’t have to give me anything – ”

“Don’t tell me that Mother’s Lie!”

“ – And it really doesn’t matter anyway since Mother’s Day was last Sunday.”

“…What?”

“Mother’s Day already passed, so save this for my birthday instead.”

“No, no, Mother’s Day is this Sunday, it’s the third Sunday of the month!”

“That’s Father’s Day, dear.”

“Since when?!”

“Since whenever both holidays were established here, I think.”

“OK, well, why didn’t you say anything when I didn’t come over on Sunday and didn’t even call you!  All day!”

“Well, one doesn’t like to mention such things; I figured you’d just forgot, and in a way, you did.  But it was an honest mistake – nothing to fret about.”

“This is an even bigger disaster than I thought!  You spent all day at home, alone, staring out the window and thinking I’m the worst child a mother ever had, I could just burst from the shame!”

“Actually, your father and I had a wonderful time whitewater rafting that day, and I’m sorry to say I didn’t even think about you until the following morning.”

“See!  I’m such an awful child that you didn’t even remember you had one on that day of all days!”

“Honey, it’s really not that big a deal; I understand you got a little mixed up on the dates and we’ll just celebrate on another day.  Not this Sunday, though – I’ll be doing one of those cure walks with my book club and it’ll be extremely early in the morning, so that’ll wipe me out for the rest of the day.”

“Fine-fine, but back to the original subject: what do you want?!”

“<Sigh> Brunch would be lovely.”

“No cooperation at all!”  <CLICK>

“Certainly doesn’t get all that drama from my side of the family, I’ll tell you.” 

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          * 

“Happy Mother’s Day!  Two weeks later!”

“Hi, honey!  What’s all this out on the front lawn?”

“Well, since you refused to tell me what to get you, I had to make an executive decision and order a traveling circus.”

“You did what?”

“Oh yeah, this company does stuff like this all the time – you don’t still have the sprinkler system installed in the lawn, do you?”

“What?  No, that’s all gone, but – ”

“Great – OK FELLAS, NO SPRINKLER HEADS TO WORRY ABOUT SO JUST AVOID THE WATER AND GAS LINES, ALL RIGHT?”

“Honey, what is going on?!”

“Don’t worry, they just need to know where to set up the big top.”

“On the front lawn?!”

“You know, you’re right – backyard has so much more space.  OK FELLAS, MOVE IT ALL TO THE BACK INSTEAD!”

“Wait-wait-wait – this is all too much; I didn’t want you spending what is clearly a fortune on a performance troupe!”

“Oh, that’s not an issue: the ringmaster owes me a favor.  YOU CAN USE THE HOSE ATTACHED TO THE HOUSE TO FILL UP THE DIVING POOL, AND TELL THE TRAPEZE ARTISTS TO GO AS HIGH UP AS THEY WANT!  Just send me your next month’s water bill – they shouldn’t need your electricity, but let me know if they wind up tapping into it later.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about – oh, all these people, all over the place – wait, no, don’t tell me there’re going to be lions or elephants or horses coming through here too, are there?!”

“Hm?  Oh, no, this is a humans-only circus; don’t need that extra headache.”

“OK.  Do they need me to feed them, then?”

“On your special day?!  No-no-no – the catering trailer should be around any minute now.  You don’t mind if they park and set up on the grass, do you?  I don’t think there’s enough room on the street.”

“You really went through too much trouble, you know.”

“On the contrary: not nearly enough to make up for my horrific oversight and failure as an offspring!”

“Yes, well, I’d actually forgotten all about that until just now.  Let me go get your father and let him know the circus is in our backyard.”

“No need: I see he’s out there now, telling them where to set up the big top.”

“Of course he is.  Well, thank you for the entertaining show – and I’m sure the circus performances will be fun, too.”

“Certainly!  Nothing is too good for MY MOTHER on MOTHER’S DAY!”

“I do have one request.”

“Anything!”

“Next year, stick to brunch.”

Story 629: Easter and Passover = A Lot of Work

             “Can you believe it’s only the beginning of April and we’ve reached 80°F over 10 times already this year?”

“No, but I LOVE IT.”

“I would too, if we hadn’t leap-frogged over spring and straight into summer, then back into winter for another go-around of chilly rain before off into summer again.”

“Well, you know what they say: ‘April chilly rain brings May grass.’”

“…No one has ever said that.”

“Anyway, this all reminds me that it’s my turn to host the family at Easter this year, and I’ve been dreading it for weeks.”

“Oh?  What for?  Don’t you love all the marshmallow candy and colored eggs and giant bunnies and all that other stuff that’s only acceptable at this time of year?  And don’t you always say your family is the only thing that matters in your life or something like that?”

“Well, yes, but there’s also just so dang many of us.”

“True, there are.”

“I can only fit so many on couches and chairs and floors in the living and dining rooms before they start spilling over into my realm, The Kitchen, and that simply won’t do.”

“Aye, no.”

“We have a perfectly fine backyard, but if the chilly rain decides to make an appearance that lovely morn, then forget about anyone going outside.”

“I hear you.”

“And even if the Sun is blazing a balmy 60°, they’ll still all cram themselves into the living room, dining room, and The Kitchen, because no one wants to move.”

“Mm-hm.”

“And yet, when it’s time to clean up – tumbleweeds and crickets.”

“Oh, yes.”

“That’s not entirely true – a few of the regulars pitch in, bless them, but overall it’s the opposite: watching the game, diving into the digital world, or napping.”

“True, true.”

“And the blessing of all that food!  Weeks to plan, days to prepare, gone in minutes, still gallons of leftovers I almost have to pay people to get enough out of the house so we manage to have the rest before it spoils.”

“Agreed.”

“Wish I could take the next day off to recover from all that plus the furniture clean-up, but nope!  Back to the office bright and early the next morning, which of course is a Monday, Heaven help me.”

“The soul sighs.”

“So, enough of all that: how’s it with you for Passover this year?”

“Oh, same: entire family’s coming over for seder, which of course is on a weeknight this year.”

“Of course.”

“All that prep, all that food, and we have to wait until after sundown to start so it’s even later by the time we start cleaning up everything and everyone goes home, and then, you guessed it, right back to the office the next day.”

“Always the way.”

“Doing all that work year after year, you start wondering why we even go through the whole thing to begin with.”

 “I know – there must be some reasons for these holidays.”

Story 615: Destination: North Pole – Santa’s House

             Expedition Log, Day 165: I pause in the middle of my trek through the Arctic tundra to enter these notes before reaching my final goal, the North Pole.  Specifically: Santa’s Workshop.  The dogs who I commandeered to pull me along with the supply sled have long since abandoned us both and reclaimed their freedom – can’t say I blame them.  Those supplies have dwindled to the point where I may not have enough for the return journey: water is not an issue since I am surrounded by it in a semi-frozen state, but food may be since any animals who actually live up here are scarce, I’m no hunter anyway, and plants suitable for my species to survive apparently don’t thrive in this biome.  On the other hand, the journey back should be significantly shorter than the journey here since, due to a grave miscalculation, I originally found myself on the opposite side of the planet in the South Pole (the presence of penguins revealed my error).

No matter: at last, I have reached journey’s end, and am ready to confront The Man, The Myth, The Legend in his stronghold.  Wish me luck!

(Explorer trudges through the mountains of snow toward a large castle, stops at the main entrance to hyperventilate a bit, and raises a fist to pound on the front door)

Santa Claus: (Opening the door before Explorer can pound on it) Ah, you made it!  Come on in!  (Holds the door open wider and waves Explorer inside)

Explorer: (Still standing with fist raised) Diiiiiiid you know I was coming?

Santa Claus: Of course!  “He sees you when you’re sleeping”, and all that.  Naturally, that’s just hyperbole: I don’t watch anyone sleeping, that’s creepy.  (Explorer still stands there) So, you coming in or what?  The heat’s getting out.

Explorer: Oh!  Right.  (Finally lowers the raised hand and rushes into a large room filled with cushioned furniture, Christmas decorations, and a huge roaring fireplace as Santa Claus bolts the door shut)  This… isn’t your workshop.

Santa Claus: (Walks to the fireplace and increases the settings from “Full Blast” to “Inferno”) Hm?  Oh, yes, the factory’s in the back courtyard – we moved operations off-site about a century ago so the missus and elves and I could really “go home” after a hard day’s work, know what I mean?  So – (Gestures to a gigantic sofa) Have a seat!  I’ll get something to warm you right up – favorite’s still peppermint hot cocoa with a little whipped cream on top, yes?

Explorer: (Sinking slowly into the sofa, full-body shaking reduced to a gentle shiver) Um, yes please, thank you.

Santa Claus: Coming right up!  Think I’ll make one for myself, too.  (Hums “Deck the Halls” while entering an industrial kitchen, then magics up two large mugs of hot cocoa and a plate of cookies and brings them out on a tray) Here you are!

Explorer: (Staring in awe at the tray) Wow, that’s amazing!  Thanks, Santa!  (Takes a mug)

Santa Claus: Ho-ho-ho, my pleasure!  Cookie?  Fresh out of the oven, in a manner of speaking.

Explorer: Oh sure, yes, thank you!  (Takes a sugar cookie, bites into it, and closes eyes) Tastes like childhood….

Santa Claus: (Sets the tray onto a large low table and sits in an armchair) Wait till you drink the cocoa.  You don’t even have to wait for it to cool off – it’s not too hot, not too cold.

(They both take a sip, then sigh)

Explorer: Heaven.

Santa Claus: Close enough.  So!  (Places the mug onto a coaster on the table) Now that you’re safely back from borderline hypothermia, what brings you all the way to this end of the globe, hm?

Explorer: Well, not to sound rude, but like you said earlier, don’t you already know?

Santa Claus: I do, but I’d rather hear it in your own words.

Explorer: OK.... (Takes another contented sip and then sets down the mug on a coaster) Well, Santa, I came all this way, looking for you, for a very special request.  (Santa Claus nods in encouragement) I’ll keep giving presents and donating and all that, but the one gift I want this year is something literally no one else on Earth can give me, and you’re my last hope.

Santa Claus: Yes?

Explorer: This year, I want… well… I want what I lost.  I want… The Spirit.

Santa Claus: Of… Christmas Past?

Explorer: No!  Well, actually, sort of: I want The Spirit of the Season.  That I used to have.

Santa Claus: (Chuckles) Ah yes, of course.  Please go on.

Explorer: (Stands and starts pacing around the sofa) It’s hard to explain.  I mean, I know I was lucky.  I grew up in a great family and a great home, and Christmas was always a wonderful time of year for me – I’m not talking about the presents, it was everything else: the decorations, the snow, the cookies, the ice skating, the caroling, the parties with family and friends, the Advent wreaths, the Nativity scenes, the colored lights hung up everywhere, and just the – the –

Santa Claus: (Nods encouragingly) Yes?

Explorer: (Stops pacing) The feeling!  Warmth, happiness – joy!  Joy to the world, and I truly believed it!  And then… and now… (Sinks into the sofa again) it’s all gone.

Santa Claus: Hm.  I think that’s called “puberty”.

Explorer: Oh, Santa!  (Slumps further into the sofa) I could take almost every other disappointment growing up, but I tried so hard to hold onto – this – (Waves at the surrounding room) and it still got away from me!  Why do hormones have to ruin everything?!

Santa Claus: I think if we knew the answer to that, there truly would be peace on Earth.  Now, you know I can’t give you your childhood back –

Explorer: (Grumbles, staring at a pillow with a giant nutcracker embroidered on it) I know, I know.

Santa Claus: (Laying a finger aside of his nose) BUT – (Explorer perks up) I can give you one day.

Explorer: One day?

Santa Claus: Yes: One Christmas Day to relive, your happiest one, from when you were, let me think… (Strokes beard in thought) yes!  When you were 8: old enough to really appreciate everything, and far enough back when your grandparents and first furry companions still were with us, and you were surrounded by family and love and joy and all was right in your own world.  Would you like that?

Explorer: (Stands, almost in tears) Oh Santa, that sounds wonderful, thank-you-thank-you-thank-you!

Santa Claus: (Also stands and the two hug) Of course!  After all, you’ve always been on the Nice List.

Explorer: (Sniffles) I try!

Santa Claus: (Patting Explorer soothingly on the back) And if this’ll keep you from tracking me down at home in the future….

Explorer: (Pulls back) Oh Santa, you’ll never see me ever again!  One day, from when I was truly happy, will be enough to last all my life!

Santa Claus: I certainly hope so.

(Explorer, age 8, wakes up on Christmas morning)

Explorer: (Jumps out of bed and runs to the living room) It’s Christmas, yay!

(Family members are sitting on the floor and in chairs facing the Christmas tree; snow is falling gently outside, carols are playing from a speaker nearby, and the smell of pine and cookies fill the air)

Family Members: Merry Christmas!

Explorer: Merry Christmas, everybody!  (Goes around the room hugging parents, grandparents, siblings, and a cat and dog) This is the best Christmas ever!

(Back in the North Pole, Santa Claus is seated on the sofa and watches the scene on a flat-screen television above the fireplace as Mrs. Claus enters from another room, wearing overalls and taking off work gloves)

Santa Claus: (Turns away from the screen) Hello, dear; how was the factory today?

Mrs. Claus: (Puts on a cozy velvet dress over the overalls) Everything’s running smoothly, love: I finished fixing the video game generator for when you take over on tomorrow’s shift.

Santa Claus: Splendid, thank you!  (Turns back to the television and watches 8-year-old Explorer and family opening presents)

Mrs. Claus: (Walks up behind the sofa to watch) Manipulating the laws of time and space again, are we?

Santa Claus: Hm?  (Turns back to look at Mrs. Claus) Oh no, this is all in that child’s head.  (Points to Explorer on the screen) Well, that child’s actually an adult now, and the one thing wanted for Christmas was the Spirit of the Season that was lost at some point, so I gave the gift of reliving good memories.  Came all the way up here to ask and everything.

Mrs. Claus: Ah, so that’s why you wanted today off.  Why didn’t you just tell me?

Santa Claus: Well, there was an off-chance that even though the trek was long, this one’d turn tail and head home at the last minute, so I didn’t want to spoil things by mentioning it out loud beforehand.  Superstitious, I know, but there it is.

Mrs. Claus: Understood.  So your guest is all snug in bed at home right now?

Santa Claus: Mm-hm.  And having a wonderful dream, if I may say so myself.  Even though it’s from memories, I made it happen.

Mrs. Claus: Uh-huh.  I thought you didn’t watch them while they’re sleeping?

Santa Claus: …Well, I’m not watching the person, I’m watching the dream.

Mrs. Claus: Ah, got it.

Santa Claus: (Turning full attention back to the screen) Troublemaker.  (Mrs. Claus chuckles)

(On the screen, Explorer looks around at the happy scene and then up at the Santa Claus tree topper)

Explorer: (Whispering) Thank you, Santa.

Santa Claus: (As Mrs. Claus lovingly squeezes his shoulder; he pats her hand and takes off his glasses to brush away a tear) I love my job.

Story 613: Thanksgiving Overabundance

             (In a house full of people on Thanksgiving, Host is in the kitchen with Relative 1 and Relative 2 cooking everything at once as the doorbell rings)

Host: (Without looking up from basting a turkey in the oven) Somebody get that!  (Mutters as the front door is opened by other relatives) One thing I get out of doing today….

(Relative 3 enters, still wearing a winter coat, hat, and gloves, and carrying a large covered pan)

Relative 3: Happy Thanksgiving!

Host and Relatives 1 and 2: (Momentarily looking up from whatever pot/pan/cutting board they are working on) Hiiiiiiiii…..

Host: (Double-takes and then points the baster at Relative 3’s pan) What is that?!

Relative 3: (Holds up the pan) Oh, it’s the second turkey you wanted.

Relative 1: (Stops slicing carrots; to Host) Hey, I thought you wanted me to get the second turkey.

Host: (Closes eyes in frustration) Blast and dangnation, I lost track of what I told people to bring!  (Lifts a cover off of a large pan sitting on the counter and gestures to that and the oven) As you can see, we already have two turkeys!  (Lets the cover drop back onto the pan)

Relative 3: OK, well, this one’s all cooked, so maybe we can do a kind-of turducken situation here, except instead of it being turkey-duck-chicken it’ll be turkey-turkey-turkey?

Relative 2: (Mashing potatoes) I don’t know, those things always feel like crossing a line to me.

Host: We’re eating it either way!

Relative 2: Yeah, but when you get to the point where you’re shoving bodies into each other, it starts to feel like desecration.

Host: Nobody asked you, and we’ve got to do something, we’ve now got three cooked turkeys and not enough stomachs to digest them!

Relative 3: (Arms sagging) Can I at least put this somewhere before you’re back down to two cooked turkeys?

(Relative 1 rushes over to take the pan and brings it with Relative 3 following into the dining room as the doorbell rings)

Host: (Finishes basting the turkey in the oven and slams the door shut) Somebody get that!  (Stirs all the pots of sides and gravy that are on the stove as Relative 1 re-enters the kitchen, washes hands, and goes back to slicing vegetables) What am I gonna do with three turkeys?!

Relative 2: (Slicing bread) Maybe sell one?

Host: (Looks witheringly at Relative 2, then looks away in consideration) Hmmm….

(Relative 4 enters, still wearing a winter coat, hat, and gloves, and carrying a large covered pan)

Relative 4: Happy Thanksgiving!

Host: (Turns off a food processor and stares in disbelief at the pan) That… doesn’t look like the corn casserole I told you to bring.

Relative 4: Oh yeah, that literally fell through, so I had this free turkey from the supermarket that I was going to donate but then realized you were having so many of us over this year that I could donate it to you instead, heh-heh.  (Host still stares at the pan) It’s all cooked and everything, so no sweat.

Host: (Still staring at the pan) I thought you were a vegetarian!

Relative 4: Well, mostly, but I’m sympathetic to the needs of you omnivores.

Relative 1: (As Host still stares at the pan) The thing is, we already have three turkeys.

Relative 4: Oh.  How’d that happen?

Host: (Finally looks at Relative 4) It doesn’t matter how it happened!  Just – put it in the dining room and we’ll figure it out later!  (Relative 2 guides Relative 4 to the dining room; Host rips open a package of mushrooms and starts sautéing them on the stove as the doorbell rings) Somebody get that!  (To Relative 1) At this rate, we’re going to have more turkeys than sides!

Relative 1: (Serenely tearing apart a head a lettuce into a large bowl) Hm.  Want me to run out to the store and grab some corn or peas or something?

Host: Thanks, but I wouldn’t send my worst enemy out on these roads on Thanksgiving.

(Relative 5 enters, still wearing a winter coat, hat, and gloves, and carrying a large covered pan)

Relative 5: Happy Thanks- !

Host: (Whirls on Relative 5) GET OUT!

Relative 5: Huh?

Host: (Points a spoon at the pan) Is that a turkey?!

Relative 5: Well yeah, you kind of need one for Thanksgiving, right?

Host: I TOLD YOU TO BRING CRANBERRY SAUCE!

Relative 5: (Thinks on this for a moment) Oh yeah; how’d I mix those up?

Host: Don’t talk to me. (Resumes stirring everything on the stove frantically as Relative 2 re-enters the kitchen) Great, just great – what am I gonna do with seven turkeys?!

Relative 1: (Gently mixing salad in the bowl) It’s not so bad: you’ve only got five turkeys.

Host: (Shakes the spoon at Relative 1) Not helping!

Relative 2: (Takes the pan from Relative 5) Here: we’ll line it up with the others.

Relative 5: (Following Relative 2 into the dining room) “Others”?

Host: (Swapping out casserole dishes in the microwave) I can’t stand it, I just can’t stand it – the table will be full of turkeys, and no cranberry sauce, no corn casserole, and no potato pie!

Relative 1: (Gasps in mid-salad dressing stir) What?!  Who forgot the potato pie?!

Host: I did when I told two people to bring turkeys!

Relative 1: Oh right, that.  (Goes back to stirring)

Relative 2: (Re-enters the kitchen) I hate to ask, but since everything’s almost done, how do you want to go about carving all the birds?

Host: (Entire body trembles while stirring stuffing, then stops and raises an eyebrow in sudden thought) I have an idea…. 

ONE HOUR LATER 

(At the long dining room table plus an extension, 20 relatives sit facing five cooked turkeys lined down the center of the tables with small dishes of sides and salad squeezed in-between each plate)

Host: (Stands up at the head of the table, raising a glass; relatives all do the same) This Thanksgiving, I am thankful for all of us who could be here today, sharing in the love, the joy, and the companionship of family, and in this wonderful, delicious, and so so abundant meal that was such a team effort to put together.

Relatives: (Smiling) Hear, hear!  (Start to drink)

Host: Also!  (Relatives raise their glasses again) I am so thankful for all of you being so helpful today, in graciously carving out your own, special piece of whichever turkey you choose from the plethora we have available, since we are so blessed with all this bounty.  (Blank stares from Relatives) Don’t be shy – dig in!

(Relatives stare at the turkeys as Host sits back down, satisfied; several grab knives and forks and do their best to carve for themselves and the ones sitting next to them)

Relative 6: (Leaning around a turkey to shout down the table) Can somebody pass the cranberry sauce?

Host: (Coolly drizzling gravy all over a full plate) Cranberry sauce will not be appearing in tonight’s meal.

Relative 6: Oh.  (Looks down in disappointment) The one thing I was looking forward to….

Relative 7: (Whispers to Relative 8 while slicing pieces from different turkeys) What are we going to do with all these leftovers?

Relative 8: (Whispers while spooning stuffing onto a plate) Won’t go to waste: whatever the humans don’t eat or bring home, the dogs’ll take care of the rest.  (Nods to the two dogs sitting patiently in a nearby corner)

Relative 7: (Whispers) Sure – it’s their Thanksgiving, too.

Story 612: Is There a Major Holiday in November I’m Forgetting?

 NOVEMBER 5 

(In a café, Parent 1, Parent 2, and Parent 3 sit at a small round table, hastily downing gingerbread lattes)

Parent 1: I’m so proud of myself this year: I finished all my Christmas shopping today, and it’s not even anywhere near December yet!

Parent 2: Ha!  I finished mine before Halloween!

Parent 3: Amateurs: I finished my Christmas and Hanukkah shopping the day after New Year’s.

Parent 1 and Parent 2: Oooooooooohhhhhhhhhh….

Parent 1: So, that’s it?  We have almost two whole months with no extra running around to stores and tracking down sales online, trying to find the last item in stock and freaking out that everything’s late?

Parent 2: I think so!

Parent 3: I don’t know – I feel like we’re missing something.

Parent 1: Something?

Parent 2: Missing?

Parent 3: You know, something major; something between Halloween and Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa.  Can’t put my finger on it, though.

Parent 1, Parent 2, and Parent 3: Hmmmmm….. (All three take a ponderous sip) 

NOVEMBER 12 

Parent 4: (In a kitchen making cookies while talking to a cell phone lying on the counter; every singer’s Christmas/Winter album plays on the radio in the background) And yes, children are a blessing, don’t get me wrong, but when you reach a certain number of them under the age of 18 within the near-immediate family, you just get to the point where you say, “Everyone’s getting gift cards, I don’t care.”

Parent 5: (Peeking in from the front door and holding up a string of colored lights) You really want all of these covering the house this year?

Parent 4: (Pauses in rolling dough to look at Parent 5) I said ALL OF THEM!

Parent 5: OK, yeesh.  (Goes back outside)

Parent 4: (Back to the phone) As I was saying: “You all can buy your own gifts at this point in my life.”

Parent 6: (Also in a kitchen making cookies while talking to a cell phone lying on the counter) Same.

Parent 4: (Looks to the oven after a timer DINGS!) Oooh, great timing, I just finished the snickerdoodle batter.  (Opens the oven door and swaps cookie sheets)

Parent 6: (Stirring batter endlessly in a large bowl) Yeah, I’m working on shortbread cookies right now.

Parent 4: Nice.

Parent 6: It’s funny, when you’re doing something mindless, you start thinking of the oddest things.

Parent 4: (Scraping cookies onto a cooling rack) Like what?

Parent 6: Well… you ever get the feeling you should be working on something else?

Parent 4: Whaddya mean?  We already multitask 24/7.  (Transfers clothes from a washing machine to a dryer and then starts another batch of cookies)

Parent 6: I know, but I have this nagging thought that I’m overlooking something important, and it has to do with food.

Parent 4: Well, once I finish these I’ve gotta start dinner, and then work on the gift baskets for the school’s Santa Bingo, not to mention when am I gonna start wrapping the kids’ presents, so anything else that may or may not be important is just going to have to wait.

Parent 6: (Stirs even slower while staring out into space) Something about a bird….

Parent 4: If it’s a partridge in a pear tree, count me out – call me Scrooge, but if I never hear that song again it’ll be too soon.

Parent 6: I like that one.

Parent 4: So did I, once upon a time.  You any closer to figuring out what it is you forgot yet?

Parent 6: (Attention drifts to a wall calendar with a picture of a giant cornucopia on the top half) It’ll come to me…. 

NOVEMBER 19 

(At a mall, Parent 7 carefully navigates through the crowds, carrying lots of large bags and surrounded by fake snow, decorated fake trees, ornaments, several menorahs, and “Jingle Bells” on a never-ending loop.  On seeing a “Photos With Santa!” section, with a long line leading to Santa Claus on a throne with helper Elves managing the crowd and a faux reindeer coldly looking on, Parent 7 stops to stare at the controlled chaos for a few moments, blocking out the jolly carol and the tormented cries of unjolly toddlers, brow furrowed in sudden confusion)

Parent 7: (Muttering to self) Wait a minute – isn’t there something else that’s supposed to happen before all this?

Santa Claus: Next in line, please!  Only 36 shopping days until Christmas, ho-ho-ho!

Parent 7: (Still muttering, now looking at the floor) Before Christmas…. Something else before Christmas…. What could it be…?  (Looks up in realization) Of course!  How could I forget Pearl Harbor Day?!  So ungrateful of me.  (Thinks for a moment) Grateful…?  (Thinks for a moment, then shakes head and dives back into the fray) 

NOVEMBER 26 

(In an office, Parent 8 sits at a desk that is smothered in winter wonderland decorations and types an e-mail)

Parent 8: (Reading aloud softly while typing) “ – and if I – have to go in there – one more time – you’re gonna get it – ”  (Stops typing) What am I doing?  This isn’t going to my kids.  (Holds down the backspace key)

Manager: (Approaches the desk) Hey, you busy?

Parent 8: (Swings away from the computer to face Manager) Always, but so are you.

Manager: Heh-heh, yeah.  So, I was reviewing everybody’s time sheets and saw you didn’t put in for the holiday tomorrow yet.

Parent 8: (Slow blinks at Manager) “Holiday”?

Manager: Yeah, you still gotta put it into the system like it’s a requested day off, except you select “Holiday” instead of “PTO”, so I’d appreciate it if you did it in the next five minutes so I can approve it before the end of the day, OK?

Parent 8: (Slow blinks again) “Tomorrow”?

Manager: Yes.  Tomorrow.  (Blank stare from Parent 8) November 27.  (Blank stare) Fourth Thursday of November.  (Blank stare) Thanksgiving?!

Parent 8: …Ohhhhh!  (Slowly nods in realization)

Manager: (Slowly nods along) Yeeessss!

Parent 8: Is that still a thing?

Manager: …Yes, it’s a federal holiday so the company actually pays you not to work.  One thing to be thankful for, right, heh-heh-heh?

Parent 8: Mm.  And it’s still every year?

Manager: Put in the request now, please – bye.  (Leaves)

Parent 8: (Turns back to the computer and opens up the Human Resources portal to enter the request, then pauses to look at a “Countdown to Christmas!” calendar that reads “29” for days remaining) Thanksgiving, eh?  Amazed that one’s still hanging in there.

Story 602: Labor Day = End of Summer Fun

 SUNDAY, AUGUST 24

 (In a park, Friend 1 and Friend 2 walk along a very uneven moderate-level trail)

Friend 2: (Pointing to a branching trail) Hey, want to try that one out this time?

Friend 1: (Glances briefly at a trail map) Nah, it leads to the main road, and also’ll take forever to get back to the parking lot; neither scenario I want to deal with, ever.

Friend 2: Oh.  OK.

Friend 1: Feel free to do it without me, though.

Friend 2: (Mildly sarcastic) Maybe another time, thanks.

Friend 1: (Completely serious) But of course.

(They walk for a few minutes in silence)

Friend 2: I can’t believe next week’s September already.

Friend 1: (Through gritted teeth) Don’t remind me.

Friend 2: I can’t believe next Monday is Labor Day.

Friend 1: As.  I.  Said.

Friend 2: Do you have off this year?

Friend 1: (Unclenches teeth) Shockingly, yes.  I think my manager either feels sorry for me working almost every holiday for years and is finally trying to make up for it, or just forgot to put me on that day.

Friend 2: That’s great!  I’d say we should meet up, but I’ll be away with my family for a really-late summer vacation that weekend – do you have any plans?

Friend 1: Nope: I try to make as few of my fellow workers as possible work on Labor Day.

Friend 2: Aw, that’s sweet.

Friend 1: Patronizing bourgeoisie.

Friend 2: So, you just going to relax at home all day?

Friend 1: Probably, in-between mourning summer’s passing.  I’d invite you to the funeral, but it seems you’re already booked.

Friend 2: Summer’s still around for another month.

Friend 1: No, summer is over with Labor Day.  If you haven’t noticed, Back-To-School is everywhere!

Friend 2: We don’t go to school anymore.

Friend 1: And yet, the sadness and anxiety of leaving summer fun behind and facing almost 10 months of judgment for almost 20 years remains.  You don’t get over something like that.

Friend 2: Well, I sure did – present everyday work anxiety is enough for me to not revisit past ones.  Besides, I thought you liked fall, and apple picking, and Halloween –

Friend 1: (Stops and turns on Friend 2) Don’t say the “H” world before September, I won’t stand for it!

Friend 2: (Continues walking as Friend 1 follows again) Jeez.  That’s everywhere now too, in case you haven’t noticed.

Friend 1: I regretfully have.  And I do like all that stuff, in their proper place and not encroaching on my days of lemonade and flip-flops.

Friend 2: Well, we’ve still got a whole week of August left for all that.

Friend 1: (Stops walking again; Friend 2 also stops) Do we?  Let’s examine the evidence.  (Briefly spreads arms out wide to take in the sky) For instance: this light… is all wrong.

Friend 2: (Looks around) It’s afternoon.

Friend 1: It’s fall light.  The angle’s all wrong for a summer day, and lately sunset is way too early for my liking.

Friend 2: It’s not completely dark until 8:00.

Friend 1: I prefer 9.  And what about that sudden, creeping chill in the air, hm?  Hm??!!

Friend 2: (Starts walking again; Friend 1 also starts again) Whatever: go to a beach or a pool or lie in the shade doing nothing, just please have fun on your last summer day that you actually don’t have to work, all right?

Friend 1: No promises. 

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 1 

(On a beach, Friend 2 relaxes in a chair facing the waves and surrounded by other chairs, umbrellas, several family members playing in the sand, employees removing their companies’ chairs and umbrellas, lifeguards whistling and yelling at swimmers not to go near the rocks, and seagulls stealing junk food they really should not be eating, then takes out a cellphone and places a call)

Friend 1: (Answers while lying on a beach chair in the grass somewhere) I thought you were on a vacation getaway with the fam.

Friend 2: I am – figured while we’re at the beach one last time, I’d check in on how you’re doing on this glorious summer’s day.

Friend 1: Cute.  Well, you’ll be happy to know I sort-of took your advice and am currently lounging near the shore of a local pond, watching the ducks swimming nowhere fast, reading my book, sipping my lemonade, and otherwise doing absolutely nothing.

Friend 2: (Sniffs exaggeratedly) I’m so proud of you.

Friend 1: I’m also doing my utmost best not to remember that Labor Day is the absolute earliest it can ever be on September 1 this year – (Friend 2 ends the call; Friend 1 sets down the phone and sips some lemonade while watching the ducks swim by) You’re right: no point in both of us being bummed out.