This post is long, but bear with me because it’s IMPORTANT. This might be the most important thing I’ve ever written. And to be completely honest, writing it made me realize that I AM OUT OF MY FUCKING MIND. As if we all didn’t know that already.
I’d also like to preface this by stating that the Nazis were ASSHOLES. I am personally horrified by the crimes they committed and this post is not meant to laugh at those criminals nor their victims. The only reason that I call myself The Christmas Nazi is because “nazi” is really the only noun that sums up the mania that takes over my mind during the month of December. If you’re already offended by this preface or you think you might be offended by me comparing my fanatical behavior to that of a Nazi’s, then do both yourself and me a favor and leave now.
You see, ever since I was a small child, Christmas has been a magical time for me. And by magical, I mean stressful because try as I might to make everything perfect, my family manages to screw it up every single year.
The most stressful part about Christmas during my childhood was trying to find the perfect tree. A lot of kids have tantrums in toy stores. I had them in Christmas tree lots. My parents never got the tree that I wanted, mostly because it was always 12 feet tall and wouldn’t have fit through the door of our house. One year I decided that I couldn't bear to go through it the heartbreak and disappointment anymore, so my family went tree shopping without me and decided to fuck with my fragile mind. When I arrived home, instead of a beautiful tree in our living room, there was a 6 inch Christmas tree branch in a vase sitting on top of our TV. My asshole parents even “decorated” it with paperclips and popcorn. After seeing me completely lose my shit, my parents brought in the real tree. I was not amused. The Christmas tree saga finally ended when we moved into a bigger house with extremely high ceilings. My parents bought a fake, pre-lit Christmas tree that’s about 9 feet tall. It’s perfection, mostly because it’s one less thing for my family to potentially screw up.
In addition to having the perfect tree, there a few rules that must be adhered to each year if my family wants to avoid my nuclear Christmas meltdowns.
1. The Christmas Season
I’d also like to preface this by stating that the Nazis were ASSHOLES. I am personally horrified by the crimes they committed and this post is not meant to laugh at those criminals nor their victims. The only reason that I call myself The Christmas Nazi is because “nazi” is really the only noun that sums up the mania that takes over my mind during the month of December. If you’re already offended by this preface or you think you might be offended by me comparing my fanatical behavior to that of a Nazi’s, then do both yourself and me a favor and leave now.
You see, ever since I was a small child, Christmas has been a magical time for me. And by magical, I mean stressful because try as I might to make everything perfect, my family manages to screw it up every single year.
The most stressful part about Christmas during my childhood was trying to find the perfect tree. A lot of kids have tantrums in toy stores. I had them in Christmas tree lots. My parents never got the tree that I wanted, mostly because it was always 12 feet tall and wouldn’t have fit through the door of our house. One year I decided that I couldn't bear to go through it the heartbreak and disappointment anymore, so my family went tree shopping without me and decided to fuck with my fragile mind. When I arrived home, instead of a beautiful tree in our living room, there was a 6 inch Christmas tree branch in a vase sitting on top of our TV. My asshole parents even “decorated” it with paperclips and popcorn. After seeing me completely lose my shit, my parents brought in the real tree. I was not amused. The Christmas tree saga finally ended when we moved into a bigger house with extremely high ceilings. My parents bought a fake, pre-lit Christmas tree that’s about 9 feet tall. It’s perfection, mostly because it’s one less thing for my family to potentially screw up.
In addition to having the perfect tree, there a few rules that must be adhered to each year if my family wants to avoid my nuclear Christmas meltdowns.
1. The Christmas Season
The Christmas season does NOT begin until the day after Thanksgiving. I don’t want to hear any Christmas music or see even a red and green bow until that day. It just pisses me off when Thanksgiving feels like an afterthought. It’s not fair to Thanksgiving, okay? And don’t even get me started on the fools that begin Christmas before Halloween.
2. Christmas Tree GuidelinesThe Christmas tree must be decorated to an approved playlist. I will sing, so just get over it. I let my family help with the decorations, but as soon as they go to bed I rearrange everything so it no longer looks like a bunch of lazy/blind people did it. The tree must be up until at least January 2nd. If I had it my way we’d leave it up until March, but my family sabotages that shit every year so I don’t even bother with that pipe dream anymore.
3. Decorating the HouseI decorate the house. Nobody else knows where the Flurryville snowmen statues go. Trust me, these people mess everything up. And don’t bother trying to rein me in when I’ve been possessed by the Christmas spirit. I realize that you can’t swing a sprig of mistletoe without knocking over some Christmas paraphernalia, but it looks fucking magical so just deal with it.
4. Family TraditionsMy family sucks with traditions. Every Christmas tradition we have was started by me and I enforce them strictly. First, Christmas cookies must be baked every year. I’ve spent 3 straight days in the kitchen baking cookies BY MYSELF because everyone else was “too busy” to help me. Last year my mother helped decorate the cookies and she frosted a snowman with YELLOW frosting. I swear to Sweet Baby Jesus I have no idea what the hell these people are thinking. Other traditions include opening one present each on Christmas Eve and the rest on Christmas morning. My brother screws that one up EVERY YEAR because we have accommodate his plans with his girlfriend. It’s ridiculous. You know how I got around that? I dated the son of a Jehovah’s Witness. It was PERFECT. I also began the tradition of eating freshly baked popovers every Christmas morning and I have to wake up at the ASS CRACK of DAWN to bake them because nobody else in my family knows how. The last and most important tradition that I started is the annual screening of How the Grinch Stole Christmas (the original animated version) and A Christmas Story. I always try to enforce White Christmas and It’s a Wonderful Life too but that never works because my family is disrespectful when it comes to the classics. Last year they made me watch that god-awful Arnold Schwarzenegger Christmas movie. I’d rather gnaw my own arm off than be subjected to that again.
If any of these rules are broken, I completely lose my shit. I know it’s probably not in the spirit of the season to become a crazy Christmas bitch every year, but Christmas is the one time of year that I like to pretend my family is perfect. Nothing makes me happier than waking up in the morning and seeing our perfectly decorated tree in our beautifully decorated living room. And as much as my family bitches and moans about how crazy I am, I know they enjoy having a perfect Christmas holiday just as much as I do. They can roll their eyes at my antics as they shovel their mouths full of the Christmas cookies and popovers that I so lovingly made because I KNOW that they’re secretly thrilled to have such a psychotic Christmas Nazi in the family. I may be bat shit crazy, BUT I MAKE CHRISTMAS HAPPEN.
2. Christmas Tree GuidelinesThe Christmas tree must be decorated to an approved playlist. I will sing, so just get over it. I let my family help with the decorations, but as soon as they go to bed I rearrange everything so it no longer looks like a bunch of lazy/blind people did it. The tree must be up until at least January 2nd. If I had it my way we’d leave it up until March, but my family sabotages that shit every year so I don’t even bother with that pipe dream anymore.
3. Decorating the HouseI decorate the house. Nobody else knows where the Flurryville snowmen statues go. Trust me, these people mess everything up. And don’t bother trying to rein me in when I’ve been possessed by the Christmas spirit. I realize that you can’t swing a sprig of mistletoe without knocking over some Christmas paraphernalia, but it looks fucking magical so just deal with it.
4. Family TraditionsMy family sucks with traditions. Every Christmas tradition we have was started by me and I enforce them strictly. First, Christmas cookies must be baked every year. I’ve spent 3 straight days in the kitchen baking cookies BY MYSELF because everyone else was “too busy” to help me. Last year my mother helped decorate the cookies and she frosted a snowman with YELLOW frosting. I swear to Sweet Baby Jesus I have no idea what the hell these people are thinking. Other traditions include opening one present each on Christmas Eve and the rest on Christmas morning. My brother screws that one up EVERY YEAR because we have accommodate his plans with his girlfriend. It’s ridiculous. You know how I got around that? I dated the son of a Jehovah’s Witness. It was PERFECT. I also began the tradition of eating freshly baked popovers every Christmas morning and I have to wake up at the ASS CRACK of DAWN to bake them because nobody else in my family knows how. The last and most important tradition that I started is the annual screening of How the Grinch Stole Christmas (the original animated version) and A Christmas Story. I always try to enforce White Christmas and It’s a Wonderful Life too but that never works because my family is disrespectful when it comes to the classics. Last year they made me watch that god-awful Arnold Schwarzenegger Christmas movie. I’d rather gnaw my own arm off than be subjected to that again.
If any of these rules are broken, I completely lose my shit. I know it’s probably not in the spirit of the season to become a crazy Christmas bitch every year, but Christmas is the one time of year that I like to pretend my family is perfect. Nothing makes me happier than waking up in the morning and seeing our perfectly decorated tree in our beautifully decorated living room. And as much as my family bitches and moans about how crazy I am, I know they enjoy having a perfect Christmas holiday just as much as I do. They can roll their eyes at my antics as they shovel their mouths full of the Christmas cookies and popovers that I so lovingly made because I KNOW that they’re secretly thrilled to have such a psychotic Christmas Nazi in the family. I may be bat shit crazy, BUT I MAKE CHRISTMAS HAPPEN.
