The majority of people look forward to December beginning from the first day of January every year. Who could blame them? It’s one of the greatest times of the year. You get to spend time with your family, gifts, parties etc. It’s just the time of year where you can rest, relax, and reflect on the year.
Now, as we all know, there are three important holidays in December. For most people, Christmas and New Year's Eve. For me, it’s Christmas Eve. Why is that you might ask? Well, because it’s my mom’s birthday.
Yes, unfortunately I was blessed enough to have a mom born on this day. With this blessing comes a lot of expectations that get greater every year. I’ll put it like this: by the time I reach 40, she expects me to rent out Disney World for a day – yeah, I got some work to do.
For 11 months, my mom is the nicest, strictest, and caring person you will ever meet. When it hits December, that person disappears and she becomes a Mariah Carey-type dictator. Imagine Queen Elizabeth and Kim Jong-un in one body, because that’s the best way to describe it up.
Rose petals are expected to be thrown at her feet from the time she wakes up until the time she goes to sleep. In reality, this doesn’t happen, but it’s her slippers that she really needs before her feet touch the ground. If those slippers aren’t there, then it’s literally Hell on Earth. Words can’t be typed to described the consequences if things don’t go her way. I’m glad I’m still alive to this day.
On the day of her birthday she expects the basics. You know, breakfast to be in front of her when she wakes up, birthday cards and presents. For my mom, that's multiplied by a 1000.
Every year she tells me to surprise her with something different, so for 11 months my mind is tormented with the thoughts of what to get her. What makes it difficult is that my mom doesn't give me hints about what she likes or wants, so I have to make life or death assumptions.
Every thought that popped into your head, I've already done. So now we're both stuck in the same predicament. Now, if I were rich, then some of my ideas would've been on the news by now. This year I'm giving her a full day spa treatment, so may the odds be ever in my favor.
December 24 may be her actual birthday, but, in reality, the whole month of December is her birthday. She celebrates every day in December as if it’s her birthday until the end of the month. Literally, when it hits December 1, my mom demands everyone’s attention; nothing happens for 31 days unless she says so.
To be honest, she’s not even my mom anymore during the month of December. She told me at 10-years-old that she wants me to call her by her real name from then on. The next year I called her mom, and she didn’t respond until I called her Lashanda. So for one month out the year I’m the only person in the world without a mom.
Somedays I want to offer her a snickers and say "you're not being yourself," but then I realize I really cherish my life and don't want to die on Christmas, so my mouth stays zipped. In all seriousness though, I keep my composure and go out of my way to make my mom's birthday wonderful because she deserves it, and I love her.
