The Christams Aftermath…

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Bryan is an artist, father, husband, and son (not really in that order). He works for the Department of Vetern's Affairs and writes and administers The Fireside Post with his father, Ohg Rea Tone. His writings have not been published, though they have been printed a lot.

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The Christams Aftermath…

Dad,

Christmas is over, and my house is a wreck.  I have been doing laps around the kitchen and living room with my son getting geared up to clean.  I have had two cups of coffee and have checked my email twice, trying to get through the neglected part of my inbox.  I started some music and read the first chapter in a book that I got as a present.  I have played with my new palm sized radio controlled helicopter, and convinced myself that it is for the entertainment of my son.

I just now realized that I have no desire to clean my house.  Or shovel the new layer of snow from my shared driveway.  Or start the chili for dinner.  Right now, my son is playing with his new farm set and Amos Lee is singing “Colors seem to fade…” for our listening pleasure.

I want a clean house, because I feel like I can’t really do anything else until I get that done.  And there are many things that I want to do today.  If I never get geared up to clean the house, then I will have no dishes or counter space to fix the chili, and as I write, the piles of mail and Christmas packaging will sneer at me in disgust.  I will end up sitting on the floor playing with farm animals and waiting for my wife to come home.  When she does, I will feel bad for being lazy, though I am not lazy, just bottle necked from my lack of desire to tackle the big job of catching up from the Christmas break.  It is a direct result of having all four of us at home for four straight days, watching movies and eating treats.  It was fun, but now it is time to get things back in shape.  And I don’t want to.

So I decided to write for a while.  I just sneer back at the wrapping paper piles and keep pressing on.  When I am finished here I will start at the back door and work my way through the kitchen and into the living room, ending in the bedroom and buttoning it up with a quick vacuum.

Well, maybe I will make the chili first.

Or check my email.

Bryan.

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