I’m Just A Girl Who Can’t Say No

So it’s November 16th, and my Christmas shopping is done.  Completely.  Everything, right down to the box of chocolates for the school bus driver.  And no, I haven’t sent out Christmas cards yet (don’t you just want to slap those women?).

So what’s the deal?  Honestly, it’s just that I need to be prepared.  Prepared for what?  The birth of the baby Jesus?  For holiday company? For Santa and his reindeer to crash through the roof?

No, the slate needs to be cleaned for the onslaught of holiday requests.  To run food pantries. To distribute gift baskets.  To set up Angel trees.  To organize teacher Christmas brunches.  To coordinate Secret Santa exchanges.  To participate in live manger scenes.  It must be something in my eyes-the “I can’t say no,” look.  Please help me.

Last year, it was costumes. And sets.  For the 2nd grade Christmas play, to be exact.  8 elf hats, 8 elf tunics, 8 elf collars, 8 elf belts, 16 elf booties.  With bells. No pattern, no fabric, no ideas.  Oh, and a Santa’s workshop “whatever you think would look good!”  7 trips to the fabric store, 18 fittings on my reluctant 8 yr old (who, for some unknown reason was NOT an elf) and a massive refitting on one elf who outweighed the others by 30 lbs, and the costumes were done.

The one who was NOT an elf

The workshop was agony, as I am worthless with a paintbrush.  2 trips to appliance stores for refrigerator boxes, 11 bottles of kiddie paint, and a gallon of sweat later, something vaguely resembling Kris Kringle’s factory hit the stage.

The kids were cute, the parents clapped.  30 minutes later, elf tunics lay in heaps on the floor, elf hats were torn, elf booties had lost their bells, (one child swallowed his)  and the workshop was tackled by a couple of reindeer. Everyone went home. That was it?  Apparently, it was. No glory for the truely humble.  The only thing left was a mad dash to play catch up on my own Christmas to do list.

I’m just a girl who can’t say no. But this year I’m ready. Ready for the requests.  Ready for the pleas to do my part. And ready, of course, to say yes.

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