Chapter 1
Last night I had Christmas with my Little Sister from BB/BS, who I will call J. She’s a 7th grader now, and she and I were matched in the BB/BS program when she was in 2nd or 3rd grade. When I picked her up at 5:30 as the snow was starting to accumulate, she was super excited to give me my present. She was like, “Which do you think we should do first–open our presents? Or eat supper.”
So of course I made the right choice.
When we got to my house and I opened my present– a leapoard-print Snuggie– I laughed and told her I’d love it, and of course I had to try it on. (Perhaps I should say here that despite having heard all about this year’s fad and its accompanying commercial, I’ve never actually seen the ad, since I don’t have TV). As I modeled it for her, her face fell for second, and then she looked at me like I had said the moon is made of cheese. “Not like that,” she said, coming over to adjust it. “You’ve got it on backwards.”
Chapter 2
Ashamed, but determined to right myself in her eyes, I then got out the stuff for us to make a “homemade” pizza (the Alison version: pre-made whole-wheat crust, Ragu sauce in a jar, etc.); and let her pick her activity for the night. She chose making homemade soaps for people in her family.
A bit of explanation: a couple of years ago, I decided–in the spirit of wanting to give people practical Christmas gifts, ones that didn’t cost much, that didn’t use up a ton of resources, and that I actually made with my hands, (vs., you know, something I bought at Miley-Mart that was probably made by a child in a factory), I decided I would look for a way to create some Christmas gifts.
So I found, like, the easiest possible idea out there– buy block of soap, melt chunks of it in microwave, add color and scent, pour into mold, viola!
(But then, of course, in my typical fashion, I began hunting down more and more materials at Hobby Lobbies and Michaels’ and other places I can’t reach without using up lots of gas, and spending a bunch of money on fish- and frog- and turtle-shaped molds for my nephews …)
Chapter 3
Anyway, because I have a galley kitchen with about 2 inches of counter space, we moved the microwave to the center of the dining room table; cleaned up from supper; dusted off all the soap-making supplies (yeah yeah, so there may have been a cat hair or two in some of the molds. What can I say? I’m a busy woman); and let the crafting commence.
At first I thought we’d make soaps for her to give to her mom and aunt.
But as we got started, J. started making a list of all the people she wanted to make one for, and she began adding cousins and teachers and church people to her list…and even as it got later, and later, I couldn’t say no.
I have to admit, I had been secretly planning to have her home by no later than 8:30-ish so I could have my own little wind-down night. But she was so in the Christmas spirit, she even wanted to make a soap for a nurse at a local nursing home who helps take care of her grandma.
So we called her mom and got permission to keep going until 10.
But here I was, after having just the day before finished a semester of taking six hours of graduate credit, plus working full-time; house a mess; Amazon packages and wrapping paper in piles everywhere; cat trying to destroy the curling ribbon; my back starting to hurt and my mind wandering to how nice it would be to have a glass of wine; and J. and I melting, pouring, stirring, melting, pouring, stirring, then wrapping all of her creations–I think we made close to 20 soaps– at 10 o’clock at night.
I was absolutely freaking exhausted. But at the same time– sap alert, sorry– it really made me see the excitement and spirit of Christmas through a kid’s eyes, rather than in my usual Christmas-is-just-a-consumer-event Grinch-yness. When we headed out to my car after 10, everything was blanketed in snow and it was beautifully quiet. It was a wonderful night.
(The only downfall: I got Ragu on my Snuggie.)
Tags: family
