Let them eat cake — now!
I suppose that’s not the saying but it should be.
Heading into Christmas I am reminded of so many memories of years past, as we all are.
One that always bothered me as a child and continues to annoy me now is something we all must have learned from the grownups in our lives.
I call it the dreaded “wait until” syndrome.
You know that one — right?
The kitchen smells like a mixture of glorious gingerbread and shortbread with icing sugar icing (that’s what I called it). The light in the oven is on. Cookies are laid out on the cupboard, hot and moist, and just awaiting a sampling.
You reach out to grab a few.
And then you hear it.
“No, not now you have to wait. Wait until they are cool. Wait until they are iced. Wait until they are cool. Wait until Christmas.”
In that moment, a little bit of the joy disappears.
They set out the snack bowls.
At least in our family home there were treats we only got at the holidays.
Out came the crackers and spreads, potato chips in that gold-coloured, two-tiered chip and dip dish and the pickle and olives served in one of those separated crystal dishes.
We couldn’t wait to dig in.
The hostess would chide:
“Don’t touch those. Those are for company. You’ll mess up my presentation.”
So, there I sat snack-less, cookie-less and very distraught.
We didn’t have to be told not to use the fancy hand towels set out for special guests — that was a given.
I’m not sure if it was typical of households a few decades ago, but we literally only used our formal living room a few times a year.
On Christmas, we were allowed to eat and drink in there and we were allowed to make a big Christmas mess with paper and ribbons. The pets were allowed to come in.
That seemed like a grand tradition. It also seems like we should have been enjoying that room any time we felt like it.
It wasn’t some weird or mean rule. My mom, like all moms, just wanted everything to be nice.
It was all adults as I recall.
Do you all remember gathering at grandma and grandpa’s and there was that giant decorated tree in the corner of the room with what looked like a million gifts underneath?
Then came the rules:
“No shaking,” “no reading the tags ahead of time” and the worst of all: “we will not be opening any gifts until everyone has had their dinner and dessert.”
You could feel the excitement being sucked out of our souls like air out of one of those giant inflatables.
Could there be any worse torture?
Wait until 25-plus adults eat five courses of meat and vegetables and then a delay for tea and coffee and plum pudding?
Maybe that was the adult payback for children who had been naughty all year?
Well, it seemed cruel and unusual punishment to me then and even now.
I think it made an imprint.
I try not to save things for a future date.
Cookies? Pass the damn platter!
I have always been one to wear my nice clothes when I bought them.
There were too many times I saved them for a special occasion and when that time came I had outgrown them. (Of course, that could have been from the cookies.)
Good China is for everyday.
My favourite mug gets used and reused.
Pets are allowed on all the furniture in every room of the house.
Sometimes, gifts don’t make it to Christmas and have to be given when the mood strikes.
Take my advice: Eat life’s cookies while they’re warm.
