Why Being An Adult At Christmas Is Worse Than Being On The Naughty List | The Odyssey Online
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Why Being An Adult At Christmas Is Worse Than Being On The Naughty List

Can I ask Santa to make me six years old again?

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Why Being An Adult At Christmas Is Worse Than Being On The Naughty List

As a kid anxiously awaiting Christmas, my biggest fear was always landing myself on Santa’s naughty list. I don’t think there was a single thing scarier than the possibility of doing something that could make Santa pass my house by. However, as I started to grow up, I realized there was something even scarier: it’s called being an adult.

First off, I never really realized what agita was until I got my first credit card bill. With that said, has anyone ever managed to open a credit card bill after going Christmas gift shopping without going through a box of tissues? I remember when I was younger I could buy everyone a pair of $2 plastic earrings and call it a day. In fact, getting your family anything at all as a child was a monumental gesture. Once you get older, however, the stakes go up. Suddenly you find yourself as a semi-broke sophomore in college, running through a packed mall trying to decide if grandma needs a new scarf or wallet more. After you finish running around the stores, you’ll want to run as far away as possible from your mailbox. Trust me, you will not be a happy camper when that bill comes.

When December 24th comes around, you’ll happily find yourself distracted from your financial issues -- for the night at least. Christmas Eve is the big night in my family whereas Christmas Day is a bit more relaxed and laid back. Christmas Eve at the Keenan household is full of three major components: food, conversation, and presents. Now, I know, I know – Christmas is not just about the gifts, but I’d be lying if I pretended they weren’t there!

In the background of loud conversations, our TV is always tuned to whatever Christmas movie the 25 days of Christmas countdown has on, until we switch it over to "A Christmas Story." When I was younger, I would sit myself down in front of the TV and enjoy every single second of it. I had those movies memorized from start to finish. Recently, I realized a funny thing about how differently I watch these Christmas movies. I used to feel like these movies were so long and that I invested so much time in watching them, not that I minded. However, when I watched "Frosty the Snowman" the other night, I commented to my mom on how I felt like these movies felt shorter and shorter every time I watched them.

Then suddenly, it dawned on me.

The movies weren't getting shorter -- my attention span was. I wasn't glued to the TV anymore, paying full attention to every move Frosty or Rudolph or the Grinch made. Instead, I was half watching while scrolling through Instagram or Twitter, or texting back a friend. As a child, I had always been so excited to watch these movies, now I find myself placing them as second priority.

While you may think that realization alone is enough to instantly get nostalgia pumping through my veins, that is nothing compared to what I feel when young children are around on Christmas Eve.

I have three young cousins who span in the ages of three to eight. There is nothing cuter than seeing how happy and impatient they are on December 24th as they await the arrival of Santa Claus. The entire night of Christmas Eve is filled with them looking through the Toys R' Us catalog, reminding everyone in the house what they want Santa to bring them, or constantly asking us what time it is so they can run up stairs and jump into bed before it gets too late. I feel that watching children be so happy is one of the purest joys you can feel in life, even if it does remind you of how old you are getting.

I won't spend too much time on the interrogation portion of the night, as I'm sure far too many of us face at every family function. I know that we all have that Uncle Steve or Aunt Karen constantly asking those oh-so popular assortment of questions, in between filling up their glasses of wine and chomping away on the Christmas ham.

"So do you have a boyfriend?"

"What are you going to do after college?"

"Have you thought about working out more?"

"Are you going to get a boyfriend anytime soon?"

I'm sure you get the point.

Soon enough, Aunt Karen or Uncle Steve find a new victim and you're free to eat your weight in those Christmas cookies, something that has a much bigger impact on your body as you grow older than it did when you were a child.

The weight gain and never-ending question game isn't the worst of it though. The absolute worst part of Christmas now is something that I don't even want to write about, but cannot prove my point without doing so. When the kids are out of sight and fast asleep, a plate of cookies is left out on the table for Santa to enjoy as he unloads his sack of goodies for the children. I used to not see what happened behind closed doors, as I once was the kid sleeping upstairs. The first time I saw one of my family members take a bite out of Santa's cookie, I swear I heard my heart break into a thousand pieces over the sound of cookies being munched on. That is the outright worst thing to experience as an adult during Christmas.

The next morning is one of the most hectic. While as a child you ran down the stairs with joy at seven in the morning to tear open the gifts Santa left for you under the tree, as an adult you find yourself rudely awoken hours before your personal liking. You no longer sit in a pool of green and red wrapping paper, but instead have a pile of opened envelopes on your lap. While I was once the child tearing off wrapping paper, I now am one of the adults wrangling up the array of trash and putting them in garbage bags. Looking over at the pile of stacked toys near the tree, usually already ripped opened by 8 a.m., brings you back to when that child sitting gleefully with their new toys was you.

You'll notice something special as you look around the room that makes those bills, nostalgia and everything else completely worth it: you'll see happiness as clear as day. You'll see Grandma trying on her new scarf, Mom smelling her new perfumes and Grandpa enjoy his new jacket. You'll see happiness, not from the gifts themselves, but from the thought they see you put into what you bought. You instantly will know picking up those extra shifts at work were completely worth it because nothing will warm your heart more than seeing the ones you love smile so intently.

Rest assured, being an adult is not a fate without hope -- or at least that's what I've been told. I myself will admit that seeing the happiness so evident on the faces of my cousins, as well as remembering my own as a child, places a strong motivation in your mind. It gives you this determination to work hard and do your best to get a great job so that one day you can provide your own children with the means to be just as happy as you were as a kid. It makes me really excited to have my own kids hand my wishlists one day or ask me to mail a letter to the North Pole for them. I won't even mind being woken up at the crack of dawn so that I can see my future kids rip open their gifts and enjoy their new toys.

While Christmas changes every year and you uncontrollably grow up, the happiness that fills the air on December 25th stays just as strong throughout the years. Naughty list, nice list, adult or child -- nothing can replace the joy you feel when surrounded by the ones you love on Christmas. That love and happiness is irreplaceable and will never change, no matter how old or young you are.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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