4 December 2019
'Tis the Season to be the Boss
Let's get this cleared up right now. I don't mean be the boss as in going to work outside your home. I mean be the boss of your own life at home. Nothing gets to the heart of this like the holidays. Heck, I've already started feeling kind of guilty and I don't even know why. My rememberer isn't working like it once did. I can't decide if I promised to organize something last year for this year. I can't recall if I bought gifts last year for this year and don't know where I put them. This is only the start of it.
I'll have my annual guilt for not sending Christmas cards, donating to all the charities who want what I don't have and baking cookies for the neighbors. Truth is that I've given all I can give and I can't write well enough to send cards and my hands can't make cookies. I'd much rather give the neighbors a bottle of wine. I might even get up in the $10 a bottle range... you never know. Won't they be tickled? Bet they will. We're all on diets anyway and wine doesn't count like cookies do in the calorie category at OUR ages.
OUR... yup. It is comforting to be surrounded by people over the age of 50. I'm pretty sure that we are sitting right in the middle of a tribe of Netarts Geezers. The youngest of these is probably our very own daughter but she's a Stage 1 Geezer who already has her AARP card. God bless her for being honest about her age. I'm her mother and this is a very good thing. I know what year she was born, and her sister, too. It's just the math that sometimes leaves me stuttering about their ages.
Grandchildren fall in this same category. I know the years they were born by association. The youngest grandson just turned 20. He's always been one year older than the calendar year on his birthday. I don't like to think about the 2020's. That math is too far ahead for me to consider. Our other grandsons were born two years apart and the eldest was born the year we settled into this house. Bonus. I know how long we've lived here and how old he is in one felled swoop. His brother is an automatic two years younger. Now THAT is grandma geezer math.
Now back to bossy stuff. I wonder how many of you do things during the holidays that you tell yourself you don't want to do. I think you should know this reaction makes you just like the rest of us. There are times when I believe I'm the boss of my life until I find out that I'm really not. I cave. I crumple and I give up the fight. Usually, it's pretty much fun once I get to where I'm going. Mr. S? Not so much. He balks, resists and leaves scratch marks down the hall when invited to something he does not wish to attend. When this man doesn't want to go somewhere there is literally no amount of begging, bullying, sniffling or threatening that will get him to go. Trust me. In almost 40 years, I've tried them all.
I must publicly admit that I am not the boss of Mr. S. While I may have some luck with household chores and minor miscellaneous stuff... I fail at the BIG stuff. As I write this I have begun a campaign to get the Christmas tree down from the attic in the garage. He'll do it eventually. As he reminds me, "Beggars can't be choosy." This situation requires the number one quality of a true boss. Patience. A lot of it.
I must admit that his method of passive resistance is very effective for a woman with bossy pants. I'll bet everyone reading this knows someone like one of us. Our dog, Grover, wins the true Shaffer House Boss award because we do what he wants to do more often than either of us would like to admit. Embarrassing. The biggest boss here is the dog. He doesn't even wear pants but we did buy him a soft sweater.
I started out trying to convince you that you have more control over what happens in the whirlwind that is the holiday season but clearly I've failed. It turns out that I'm not a very good example of a boss. Heck, I can't even get outdoor lights put up. Why? I can't do it by my onesies and Mr. S doesn't care. In truth, while Mother Nature giggles, the damned things just blow down in the winds of December anyway. She's the REAL boss.
Bottom line is to do what you want to do this holiday season. Instead of worrying, be the boss of you and enjoy every single minute. Everything else will take care of itself. Except Mr. S. God love him.