Welcome, People of Christmas, to the finish line—well, almost. We’ve made it through the holiday hustle and bustle, and while some of us are practically gliding toward December 25th, others are barely holding it together, clinging to that last shred of holiday cheer by a thread of wrapping paper.
We’ve crafted Pinterest-worthy decorations that will definitely not make it through the New Year. We’ve stuffed children into festive outfits for school, pictures with Santa, plays, holiday parades—heck, even the Dog Lovers Club Christmas extravaganza. Yes, we’ve done it all. And yes, we’re almost there. Well, some of us anyway.
At this point, a solid chunk of you have checked off your shopping lists, and maybe even started wrapping things up (pun intended). Undoubtedly, you’re sitting next to a roaring fire, feet up, sipping something warm, and casually perusing your Google doc of Christmas tasks, keeping it all together like the festive superhero you are. Meanwhile, your kids—dressed in their perfect, matching Christmas pajamas—are serenely playing with their wooden toy trains, acting like they’ve stepped off a Hallmark card. Truly, we are all living the dream… for you.
But for the rest of us? We’re lost in a sea of pine-scented confusion and peppermint-induced delirium. Google doc? What’s a Google doc? Our last coherent thought was somewhere between the 100th click on Amazon and wondering how much more we can spend before we hit the dreaded credit card limit. And no, we don’t know if this year’s gift already exists in the pile of random stuff in the closet. Does she have this? Who knows? Does the size matter? Eh, we’ll figure it out later.
And let’s not forget about those prices. “Eighty-two dollars for this Taylor Swift sweatshirt? Is it… organic?”
Ah, the sweet, sweet panic of last-minute Christmas shopping.
The Disappearing Gifts Conspiracy
Every year, we swear it will be different. Every year, we hide the gifts in the most “safe and clever” spots, only to find ourselves a week before Christmas in full-blown scavenger hunt mode. Where are those darn Legos? Did I accidentally donate the bubble machine to the Salvation Army? Where is the tree-decorating kit I found last year and almost lost then too? What in the world is happening to these gifts??
Our house has probably become the Bermuda Triangle for toys. No one knows where they go, but they sure don’t end up where they’re supposed to. And when we finally find them? It’s always the wrong thing. The scooter is blue, not pink. The hoverboard is black instead of the multicolored one we ordered. The Tonka dump truck? You guessed it—it’s a princess crown. You can’t make this stuff up.
A Journey to Target
If you need me between December 21st and 23rd, you can undoubtedly find me wandering the aisles of Target, muttering to myself, desperately searching for anything that even remotely resembles the gift I was sure I had ordered. I will likely look like I’ve just emerged from the bottom of a Christmas tree box, with tangled hair and the glazed eyes of a person who’s lost all sense of time or space.
It’s only a matter of time before I come face-to-face with my child’s teacher, the guy who runs the local coffee shop, or my husband’s cousin who definitely doesn’t need to see me like this. Years ago, I had the honor of meeting my mother-in-law’s cousin in the most unfortunate of situations. Let’s just say, no amount of showering could undo the damage done by that early morning Target run.
“Hi, yes, I promise this is just what I look like now. Merry Christmas.”
The Midnight Miracle
And then there’s the last-minute “missing order” saga, which always manages to add another layer of insanity to the mix. Case in point: I spent an entire December 23rd night on the phone with American Girl Doll customer service after discovering—on my own—that my precious doll order had been delivered… to our old address. There I was, on the phone with a sweet customer service rep, explaining how I had no idea where this gift was.
Twenty minutes later, after a lovely exchange, it was decided that, indeed, the doll had been waiting for me in my other home since November. My husband bravely battled traffic and the last-minute shoppers, emerging with the package in hand, an untouched Christmas miracle.
The Real Gift
People of Christmas, whether you’re cozying up with Hallmark movies and hot cocoa or elbowing your way through the chaos of Target’s holiday aisles, just know that somehow, it always works out in the end. Those last-minute gifts you stress over? Sometimes they’re replaced by a surprise find from Five Below that ends up being your kid’s favorite gift. In the grand scheme of things, it’s not about the stuff.
The real gift of Christmas? It’s the joy of being together, laughing through the chaos, and surviving the madness. And one day, my kids will realize this too… but until then, if you need me, I’ll be in the attic, hiding the gifts I swore I would never forget again.
Merry Christmas, People of Christmas. You’ve got this… or you don’t. Either way, it’ll be fine.
What about you, People of Christmas? Share your last-minute shopping stories, gift fiascos, or holiday survival tips in the comments below. And remember, we’re all in this together.
