: the home alone christmas :


It’s not my first one, either, not by a long shot. They’re all like this, which is to say disastrous. Oddly enough, at some point during the holidays I’ll play almost every role in the movie: the bumbling burglars, the abandoned kid, the scatter-brained, panicky woman, the ill-tempered neighbor, the whole kit and caboodle. These are unnerving days.

For instance, the other morning as I dried my hair in the bathroom I clapped eyes on the air vent in the ceiling. Yipes, it needed cleaning. So, being compulsive, I put down the blow dryer and picked up the Q-tips. I stood for long seconds deciding the best way to accomplish this simple task. Should I clamber onto the toilet seat, stand on a stack of books, use my desk chair? Hmm, too flimsy, too slippery, too stoopid. Besides, I didn’t need nearly that much height; a couple inches would do fine.

Then, * bink *, a light went on.

My Doc Martens. They have a really, really, really thick sole and an excellent grip. I put them on, s-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-d as far as my muscles allowed, and went to work swabbing the vents. Only seconds into the job I got a leg cramp the size of a door knob, my calf muscle seized up, and my leg contracted. I tried to straighten it, but couldn’t. I was, for all intents and purposes, one-legged. As a result, I tipped sideways, careened off the toilet and into the vanity, from there I ricocheted into the wall and off the side of the bathroom door. I eventually came to rest wedged between the laundry hamper and the bathtub.

This is my most reliable holiday tradition. Every year, I pull at least one hair-brained stunt. Last year, it was the laptop stuck in the pants fiasco. Before that, I toppled a fully decorated Christmas tree, had a pressure cooker explode on me, opened a Coke bottle (and my hand) with a pair of scissors, knocked myself unconscious on a skating rink. The list is practically endless and oh, so humiliating.

However, this is the first year I picked up on the similarities between my life and Home Alone. How I’ve dodged such an obvious reality so long is a complete mystery, because I’ve been stumbling around for decades in a great big grown-up world I’m still not savvy enough to navigate . My family, you see, is long gone, and I miss most of them. They were my minders.

These days, it’s just me and the dog weathering a holiday shitstorm of missteps and hapless calamities. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my high-functioning depression.

copyright © 2018 the whirly girl

11 Responses to “: the home alone christmas :”

  1. Straddle the Turtle

    That illustration at the bottom of your blog, the one of a person pushing a boulder uphill – I did a self portrait like that in art school – my actual profile (I looked sideways in a full length mirror) pushing a huge rock up an incline. I can totally relate, although that was then and this is now.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • the whirly girl

      Then is every bit as valid as now, kiddo. The uphill struggle is something we all do, I think. The only differences are the size of our rocks and how steep the hill is 💁🏻‍♀️

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
  2. aintwegotitmade

    hmmm….I’m a veteran of bathroom fan/air vent cleaning and what you need(ed) was the appropriate vacuum attachment..and a small folding step ladder…I’ve written to Santa and that’s now added to your Christmas list (though I reckon he might have already loaded up).

    In the meantime…well done for functioning at all at this time…and for managing to have a lovely dog…and a nearly clean air vent. I wish you a lovely Christmas and very fun new year!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • the whirly girl

      Thanks for the tip and, more importantly, the laugh! Your reference to my ‘nearly clean air vent’ was so unexpected and perfect it made me laugh out loud. You’re the best❣️

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
  3. Dave Kingsbury

    Haha! Your pain, our gain! Seriously though, this is a thoroughly entertaining piece made more appealing by the degree of sympathy you manage to arouse. A tragicomedy worthy of Chekhov … well, Woody Allen anyhow! Seasonal felicitations to you and all power to your pen in 2019! :-)

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
  4. SilkPurseProductions

    Well, Whirly Girl, I can honestly say it wouldn’t have occurred to me to use a QTip for that job. I have found pulling the end off the vacuum and reaching up with the hose (no Doc Martens needed) does an adequate job. Of course I have no heroic Christmas kerfuffle to share either. Your way is much more entertaining for us, and a lot more uncomfortable for you. Happy Christmas My Friend. We’ll survive another.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • the whirly girl

      I swear the vacuum cleaner was never on the radar, not even a blip. It seems obvious now, but sure didn’t then. I’ve probably knocked my connections loose or something. You practical people are so darn lucky!

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Basic HTML is allowed. Your email address will not be published.

Subscribe to this comment feed via RSS

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: