Here is what I wish for you, darling ones: someone who will change out of their pajama pants for you; a life full of hilarious serendipity, periods of time that are so full of fun and activity you don’t have time to write about it; people who make you laugh so hard wine comes out your nose; the inner-strength to make it through the trying times; and this year I wish for you the time and patience and faith in yourself to participate in a creative hobby.
For Christmas, I made all my sisters and nephews and my niece and my brother-in-law hats and scarves. I made them with my own two hands, and I have the sore forearms to prove it.
It was ridiculously hard and a lot of work, and yet totally rewarding. I can see why people get addicted to knitting or crocheting. There’s something quite meditative about it. Plus, I’m a giant goober so with every stitch I made I would think I love you I love you I love you about the person I was crafting for. I was so proud of my handiwork that when my family ripped open their gifts, I’m the one who burst into tears.
“I’m so proud of me,” I shouted over the noise. “I’m crying.”
“I’m crying for you too,” Sister #3 said.
The reason I am wishing you the creative hobby is because I’ve spent the last NINE DAYS with Sister #4 (and trust me when I say this: the fact that we’re still speaking and she’s not been injured is a testament to my will power. I’m not sure if homicide committed due to a million tiny annoyances is justifiable or not and I’d hate to have to spend the rest of my life in prison because I couldn’t take her fucking tap tap tapping any more).
Anyway, she spent the better part of the past NINE DAYS a bored lump on the end of my couch. Her friends were working, I was working, and she has nothing to entertain herself save for Facebook and the TV. How depressing is that? So Darling Ones, that’s my wish for you, to do your brains a favor this year and try to cultivate a hobby that doesn’t involve time in front of a screen.