Planning Christmas in her home has our columnist in hysterics – hysterical laughter, that is.

ACCORDING to the Ideal Christmas Planner sent to me by a helpful friend, my Yuletide preparations should be well underway. But it’s just not happening. As I write this, it’s six days before the big day, which means my tree should be up, the cards sent, the presents bought, the dinner menu planned, the wine chilled....

Well, the tree is up – sort of. Some of the baubles have lost their hanging ability since they were last used and need to be re-strung, and the tinsel is dangling inelegantly from the bottom branches of my fake shrub like large shiny cobwebs – but at least it’s up.

As for the sending of Christmas cards, it’s a fast-dying tradition that has largely been replaced by e-cards and short text messages. This year, I will send a few online cards that play something like Jingle Bells non-stop, in a browser window that refuses to shut down, forcing the recipient to contemplate tossing their notebook into the bathtub to shut it up.

Well, at least that was my experience with some of the e-cards I received last Christmas. And who am I to spoil the fun by going against traditions-in-the-making?

However, my biggest seasonal headache is Christmas presents. The Ideal Christmas Planner states that I should have bought all my presents in the January sales (that’s the 2012 January sales!).

It also offers helpful tips on what to get for someone who has everything, someone who doesn’t know what they want, and someone who proclaims they don’t want anything.

Absolutely nothing, of course! At least, that’s what my helpful tip would be.

At this time of year, I’m also reminded of my childhood Christmases, and the gifts I used to receive from my parents.

My mother would usually buy the presents at the beginning of December and stash them in a secret location – at the back of her wardrobe.

I think many parents fail to realise how devious their young children can be. I mean to say, there wasn’t even an attempt on my mother’s part to change the hiding place from year to year, or thoroughly conceal her packages so that they wouldn’t have been discovered in the first place.

They were just stacked in a neat pile beneath the hanging clothes. She might just as well have put a sticker on them saying: “OPEN ME!”

My brother and I became quite adept at unwrapping and rewrapping presents so that the untrained eye wouldn’t be able to detect any signs of disturbance.

We were also skilled in the art of opening a box of chocolates, removing a few of our favourites, and resealing the box, during the few minutes it took my mother to hang out the washing in the back garden.

After the deed was done, I would lie on my bed and let the chocolate slowly melt on my tongue, so I could enjoy the sweet taste of success for as long as possible. It was the best chocolate ever.

Unfortunately, our pilfering ways meant that someone received a partially eaten box of chocolates on Christmas day. We blamed Cadbury. And my father would rant about capitalist greed and how the working classes were always getting ripped off.

It also meant that there were few surprises for me on Christmas day. But surprises are overrated. Better a look of feigned joy on your face than an expression of crushing disappointment when you get something you don’t want.

My partner has already bought me something for Christmas. I know so because I saw him sneaking off to buy it in a shopping mall. I’ve searched everywhere but I can’t find it. It’s either in the glove compartment of his car or at his work place. I’d better start practising my feigned joy – just in case.

The Ideal Christmas Planner also states that I should have set aside some time this year for Christmas crafts. I laughed hysterically as I digested this information. Like, what the heck are these people smoking?

If I can’t even manipulate tinsel in a creative manner, how am I supposed to make a glow-in-the-dark nativity scene to be placed at the base of my tree, or Santa and his reindeer for the centre of my dinner table, or a charming pop-up Advent calendar? All made from toilet roll middles, uncooked beans, a glue gun and the everyday “stuff that we all have lying around the house”.

I’ve got to tell you that there’s nothing in my house that can easily be fashioned into a camel, or a wise man or a reindeer in mid-flight.

Unless, of course, my partner has bought me the ultimate craft kit for Christmas and stashed it in the sofa’s interior. In which case, I have to tell you that there’s a limit to this joy-feigning lark.

Wishing all readers a joyous Christmas!

Check out Mary Schneider on Facebook at facebook.com/mary.schneider.writer. Reader response can be directed to star2@thestar.com.my.

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