Christmas Eve Eve

 

When I was a child counting down to Christmas, I would say, “If you don’t count today and you don’t count tomorrow, Christmas is X number of days away.” 

When I told my mother this, she said, “Why wouldn’t you count today and tomorrow?”

I said “To make it come faster.”

“Now, Charlie, you know that doesn’t make sense.”

Later I heard her telling one of her friends about this on the phone.  “She’s such a funny little thing.  I just don’t know how she’s going to get along in the world.”

If she’d sounded amused, my feelings would have been hurt, but she sounded concerned.  So I never shared the countdown with her again, although I kept it up.

 

I did tell my cousin Bethany, who thought it was a neat idea.  Aunt Pooh suggested that we could also count down to Christmas Eve.  “And then there’s Christmas Eve Eve.”

The day before Christmas Eve always had a special feel.  It was the last day of school before Christmas vacation.  I’d get to stay up late.  There would the final deluge of Christmas cards waiting to be gone through when I got home and my parents brought home the schmooze food gifts they’d gotten from business contacts.  It was a preview of Christmas.

As an adult, with the job of “doing” Christmas, I count today and tomorrow to try and make Christmas come more slowly so I can get things done.  I’m not sure if it works.

But by Christmas Eve Eve, I either have finished everything or given up.  The children come home from school all excited and I let them have some of the “not until Christmas” cookies that I’ve been guarding.  We sit around and they try to get me to let them open “just one" of the presents that Ed and I got for them to “help Santa out.”  Somebody says, “If you don’t count today and you don’t count tomorrow, it’s Christmas.” 

And we all understand.