Party Hopping

borden_egg_nog.jpgA couple of weeks ago I complained to Bryna that we never get invited to any Christmas parties. The next day we literally got four invitations in the mail, all for the same weekend. Which merely proves the axiom, “Be careful what you wish for.” So, we spent this weekend “holiday party” hopping. This is the old people equivalent of clubbing. The invitations were from a variety of constituencies: one was a family party, one was a new friend’s annual holiday party, one was hosted by parishioners, and one was held by the parents of one of Zack’s friends. A good time was had by all.

My biggest struggle at these things is what to say when people wish me “Merry Christmas.” I know it’s all done in the spirit of the season but my inner liturgical Nazi says “It’s not Christmas! It’s still Advent!” There are 12 days of Christmas and we don’t hit the first one until the 25th. So instead of just saying, “And Merry Christmas to you, too,” I say something passive agressive like “Yup, it’s almost Christmas” or “It won’t be long.” Maybe that’s why I rarely get invited back the following year…

It’s always interesting when people find out what I do for a living. I usually don’t bring it up unless asked because it’s often a conversation killer. While it doesn’t faze most people, you can see other playing back the preceding dialogue in their minds to make sure they didn’t curse or say something inapropriate. As if I’ve already condemned them to the fifth ring of hell. I’m often tempted to just tell people I’m in “life insurance,” which is true in a sense. Of course that might make them run away as well.  

We don’t have any more parties on our December social calendar. Which is just as well. I’ve got some sermons to crank out.



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