Monday - Christmas Dinner In Hades
Dec. 18th, 2006 02:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermoreToday on my drive into work, I was thinking about the fact that no matter how hard I try to be something different, at heart I am still a nice Southern girl who can't refuse to see her father at Christmas without feeling like total pond scum. I tried. I really did. And I failed. I will swing by on Christmas Eve when they have dinner at their house. I just won't eat with them.
In Greek mythology, a person could visit Hades and, as long as they didn't eat or drink anything, leave and go home when they were done sightseeing. However, if they ate anything they were trapped and had to stay forever. I have decided that I will treat my father's house as if it were Hades. Sure, I'll drop by for a chat, but I won't be fooled into eat anything while I'm there. While I know I won't be in mortal peril if I do, it has the psychological effect as if I were. These meals don't actually last a whole eternity, but they sure feel like it while I endure them.
My husband is adamant that there will be no traveling to visit anyone this Christmas. He refuses. This year he has both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day off, and he insists that we stay at home as a family for once. We won't even be spending it with his own mother, who is in town for the first time in 2 years. She will spend it with his brother, instead.
"No! Absolutely not! I'm spending Christmas at my home with my family this year. We aren't going from house to house to house to visit every g*ddamned person we know. I'm sick of that sh*t." His crazed eyes when he goes off on this lunatic rant are something to behold. Usually, he only gets this riled up when people leave their Christmas lights up into the month of February. The truth is, we don't know that many people, but with both of our families so close, it's enough to run us ragged.
He was not pleased when I mentioned I had promised to stop by my father's house on Christmas Eve.
"You can go," he said with a snort, "just do it before I wake up." Easy enough, since as a shift worker he wakes up mid afternoon. "Why didn't you just say no, like you were going to?" he asked.
The truth is, I did say no, but it didn't stick. My mistake was saying it in person this weekend when I left my son at his grandfather's house while I did some Christmas shopping. My father is a Certified Master in the Art of the Guilt Trip, and I am a Certified Wimp. Over the phone, I might have resisted the overwhelming power of his Big Sad Eyes and only had to endure his Heartbroken Sigh. In person, the combination of the two is unbearable.
When I issued my refusal, my father frowned and moved in for the kill.
"We won't see you at all? When are we going to give our boy his presents? We want to see him open them." I turned away from his Big Sad Eyes, but could still feel them boring into me.
"I...I...I don't know," I stammered. Damn, I should have had the alternate visit after Christmas ready to suggest; now I was vulnerable, and he could see it.
"You couldn't drop by for just a little while? Ron will be here. He has Christmas Eve off this year, that's why we're having everything on Sunday. When's the last time you saw him? And Randy's driving down. And Brad's coming, too. Are you sure you can't make it at all?" He laid on The Sigh, the all-powerful Wounded Sigh. I felt myself start to waiver.
"Jeff wants us to spend the day together, just us," I said feebley.
"But when are we going to see you then?" The Big Sad eyes got Bigger and Sadder. A grown man shouldn't have eyes that big or that sad. It's unseemly.
"You saw me on Thanksgiving!" I said sharply. I flinched as soon as the words left my mouth. That came out wrong. More accurately, it came out exactly as I meant it - I just didn't mean to say it out loud. My head started to hurt. With that ugly remark, I had to make amends, leaving me no choice but to accept defeat.
"We'll come by for just a little while," I said, "maybe for half an hour. We aren't eating here, though. We, uhm, can't." I meant won't. I don't want to wind up like Persephone, unable to leave their house until the springtime.
Next time I try to tell my father no, I'll do it over the phone and out of range from his Big Sad Eyes. Better yet, I'll email him. Over the Internet, I won't even be able to hear him sigh, no matter how good my connection is.
Wish me luck. I'll need it.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ # ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
In Greek mythology, a person could visit Hades and, as long as they didn't eat or drink anything, leave and go home when they were done sightseeing. However, if they ate anything they were trapped and had to stay forever. I have decided that I will treat my father's house as if it were Hades. Sure, I'll drop by for a chat, but I won't be fooled into eat anything while I'm there. While I know I won't be in mortal peril if I do, it has the psychological effect as if I were. These meals don't actually last a whole eternity, but they sure feel like it while I endure them.
My husband is adamant that there will be no traveling to visit anyone this Christmas. He refuses. This year he has both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day off, and he insists that we stay at home as a family for once. We won't even be spending it with his own mother, who is in town for the first time in 2 years. She will spend it with his brother, instead.
"No! Absolutely not! I'm spending Christmas at my home with my family this year. We aren't going from house to house to house to visit every g*ddamned person we know. I'm sick of that sh*t." His crazed eyes when he goes off on this lunatic rant are something to behold. Usually, he only gets this riled up when people leave their Christmas lights up into the month of February. The truth is, we don't know that many people, but with both of our families so close, it's enough to run us ragged.
He was not pleased when I mentioned I had promised to stop by my father's house on Christmas Eve.
"You can go," he said with a snort, "just do it before I wake up." Easy enough, since as a shift worker he wakes up mid afternoon. "Why didn't you just say no, like you were going to?" he asked.
The truth is, I did say no, but it didn't stick. My mistake was saying it in person this weekend when I left my son at his grandfather's house while I did some Christmas shopping. My father is a Certified Master in the Art of the Guilt Trip, and I am a Certified Wimp. Over the phone, I might have resisted the overwhelming power of his Big Sad Eyes and only had to endure his Heartbroken Sigh. In person, the combination of the two is unbearable.
When I issued my refusal, my father frowned and moved in for the kill.
"We won't see you at all? When are we going to give our boy his presents? We want to see him open them." I turned away from his Big Sad Eyes, but could still feel them boring into me.
"I...I...I don't know," I stammered. Damn, I should have had the alternate visit after Christmas ready to suggest; now I was vulnerable, and he could see it.
"You couldn't drop by for just a little while? Ron will be here. He has Christmas Eve off this year, that's why we're having everything on Sunday. When's the last time you saw him? And Randy's driving down. And Brad's coming, too. Are you sure you can't make it at all?" He laid on The Sigh, the all-powerful Wounded Sigh. I felt myself start to waiver.
"Jeff wants us to spend the day together, just us," I said feebley.
"But when are we going to see you then?" The Big Sad eyes got Bigger and Sadder. A grown man shouldn't have eyes that big or that sad. It's unseemly.
"You saw me on Thanksgiving!" I said sharply. I flinched as soon as the words left my mouth. That came out wrong. More accurately, it came out exactly as I meant it - I just didn't mean to say it out loud. My head started to hurt. With that ugly remark, I had to make amends, leaving me no choice but to accept defeat.
"We'll come by for just a little while," I said, "maybe for half an hour. We aren't eating here, though. We, uhm, can't." I meant won't. I don't want to wind up like Persephone, unable to leave their house until the springtime.
Next time I try to tell my father no, I'll do it over the phone and out of range from his Big Sad Eyes. Better yet, I'll email him. Over the Internet, I won't even be able to hear him sigh, no matter how good my connection is.
Wish me luck. I'll need it.
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no subject
Date: 2006-12-18 08:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 05:32 pm (UTC)Wish me luck
Date: 2006-12-18 09:27 pm (UTC)Re: Wish me luck
Date: 2006-12-19 05:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 03:34 am (UTC)But seeing family.. Isn't that part of the fun..
Isn't that xmas is about? My best memories are going to my Grandmother's for gifts. Maybe you could compromise? Only travel on Xmas eve and spend the whole Xmas day at home?
no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 06:03 pm (UTC)I would rather they pick another day, the weekend before or after the holiday, for us all to get together, and leave the holiday itself for me to spend with my son and husband. I think that would make it easier on everyone.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 05:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 05:40 pm (UTC)I think I just need to move further away from home. Maybe that would help. :P
no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 05:36 pm (UTC)Ha! If it were a crime, there are not enough prisons in the world to hold all of the parents out there who would have to be arrested...
no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 07:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 06:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 07:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 07:19 pm (UTC)Assuming Mom doesn't decide to crash our as-yet-unplanned Christmas at the last minute, Rich and Rorie and I could drop by with a covered dish and liven things up. ;D
no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 07:49 pm (UTC)Harding holiday gathering were always the week before Christmas. They were, uhm, colorful, to say the least. And fattening.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 07:53 pm (UTC)I am kidding, of course. But just imagine how much more lively the holiday would be if my Dad was there. Well, Mom keeps saying how much Rich reminds him of Daddy, and I know I've inherited a lot of the man, myself. Put us in the mix and all KINDS of hilarity would ensue!
no subject
Date: 2006-12-20 05:04 pm (UTC)I'm a wuss. I cave at everything.... I can feel your pain.