December is the season of giving
and joy. Festive parties and dazzling decor. Gifts and cards and ribbons. And
that most dread holiday item of all. Glitter.
I hate glitter.
Because I can't get rid of it.
Christmas also brings us pine needles, horrid little organic shafts that stick
to anything and embed themselves in carpet until they are displaced by their
artificial nemesis and/or replacement in the spring: Easter grass.
But at least those items have size,
and are relatively visible from any light angle to help facilitate their
removal. Glitter is randomly and invisibly insidious.
In Sisyphussy effort, you think you
vacuumed it all up or wiped it away with a damp cloth, then the morning sun
hits your table at its low southern angle and suddenly glitter is everywhere.
As I wear contact lenses, glitter
holds a special threat for me. Excruciating pain. A little glitter in a contact
lensed eye goes a long way. And you know you have a glitter problem when every
excrement from kitty to baby shimmers in the light with speckles of festivity.
Sadly, it's hard to buy a Christmas
card or gift wrap that doesn't have glitter crusting its outer surface, ready
to spring loose all over your house like an alien mushroom bursting with
spores.
I get so I'm extremely cautious
when I open a Christmas card envelope. Will this one be loaded with glitter?
Should I even take it out of the envelope? Should I just eat it now or wait
until its glitto-nano-particles mysterious waft into my turkey gravy later?
I try to wedge open the card and
read it at a slant. What's that say? "Merry Christmas, and may your New
Year be happy and filled with constant vacuuming."
Ah, the season of giving...
America, ya gotta love it.
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