December 4: Salvaging Christmas

Some things are worth saving.

It’s a Sunday during the Christmas season. I’m not making anyone go to mass—I’ll save that for Christmas Eve—but I would like us to do “Christmasy” things as a family. To that purpose, I bought us tickets to an ornament making workshop at a local architectural salvage shop. I thought it would please the husband and teens—there would be tools, wood, and metal. There was chance you could hurt yourself with a hammer or screwdriver or perhaps get burned with hot glue.

There were risks, it wasn’t cutesy, and it might leave scars. Trifecta.

We arrived early and the workshop was empty. The teens immediately refused to enter—if no one else is doing it, it must not be worth doing. But you know, if the room had been full they would have rejected the idea as well because if someone else is doing it, it must not be worth doing.

So my husband and I did the only reasonable thing: we abandoned the children and went inside.

Freed from the responsibility of ensuring someone else’s fun, we had fun ourselves.

I’m not sure how long we were there—no one asked when we would be done or when we leaving. No one complained or rushed or looked at their phone. Instead, we spent the morning in quiet contemplation of the scattered bits of someone’s remodeled house—nuts, bolts, spools of wire, and industrial hot glue.

Out of it, we built a morning that worked because the original parts are still sound enough.