2018 Home for the Holidays

2018 Home for the Holidays LINCOLN DAILY NEWS November 21, 2018 Page 41 But sometimes I get something that is so far out of the realm of imagination that even my anxiety at the situation vanishes in a puff of confusion. Do I look like the kind of person who needs an egg cuber? Do I pray in vain that someone, somewhere has invented a way to turn my eggs into squares? Is it the greatest mystery to the universe? This is also a real thing that exists. I’ve never gotten one, but I could see it happening now that I’ve mentioned it. Thanks ahead of time, Aunt Wilma. I’ll keep it next to the electric orange peeler. Meeting people In my experience, I’ve met someone new almost every other year at Christmas. It’s usually a new significant other of a cousin, or a new cousin altogether. Sometimes, I meet more than one new person at a time, which is truly a battle for the ages as the rational part of my brain fights my anxiety. For the most part, I still receive some piece of forewarning about who will be at Christmas dinner. But sometimes, an unexpected guest shows up, which only serves to turn me off from my dessert. Whenever this happens, I try to find out who invited them, even if I can’t call out the inviter out loud. I want to ask them - what have I done to draw your ire this year? I saw Uncle Joe two years ago; isn’t that enough for one decade? Some years I won’t meet any new people, which only fills me with a different sense of dread. I start to do the math in my head, and that’s usually when someone says the two words that are already trying to burst from my brain like Athena from Zeus. “We’re pregnant!” Even just writing that gives me anxiety. Another twig on the family tree? Already? The other ones have barely bloomed. I can barely remember my own name, let alone another one. Please, at least do me (and the newborn) a favor; give them a name with an easy spelling. At least there’s still time before I have to really try to find a present that fits their needs. Maybe they’ll want to cube their eggs. Maybe they’ll be happy to receive the strange little kitchen device that takes a round(ish) thing and turns it into a square. They’ll probably look at it with wide eyes and make some half- crazed joyful sound, and then give me a loud “Thanks!” Maybe I’ll even get a hug in return, and everyone will go “Aww!” I guess that doesn’t sound so bad after all. After the anxiety of the unexpected passes, the genuine joy of a good surprise does help me sleep a little better after the holidays. After the never-ending run of holidays from October through the end of the year, I think we all should just hibernate for a while. And even for a curmudgeon, there’s a good feeling that lingers when all is said and done, even as I stare at the leftover cheese cones in the fridge. But enough surprises for now. I have to start mentally preparing my calendar for next year.