Why I Invented Christmas Morrow

More Christmas, Anyone?

We were streaming a Frank Sinatra Christmas album a full week before Thanksgiving last year. This year, the Christmas music started the day after Halloween. But herein lies my frustration. I can start celebrating Christmas a week before Thanksgiving or the day after Halloween, and it won’t matter. Christmas will still come way too fast. (It’s worth noting that this is a phenomenon of adulthood. Don’t try to tell this to a child.) Christmas is over. It’s gone. And I have to wait another whole year to celebrate in shades of red and green.

A Jolly Christmas from Frank Sinatra, 1957

Don’t get me wrong. I do a fine job preparing for the season. I hang decorations and stockings, trim the tree, drink eggnog, wear an ugly sweater, etc.

I also play Christmas albums non-stop: Willie Nelson’s (excellent), Lauren Daigle’s (not bad), Phil Spector’s (doo-wop), Dean Martin’s (always nice), The Beach Boys (hell yes!), and Jimmy Buffett (actually worth a listen if you’re into a beach Santa). On a side note, last year, I discovered that Jimmy Buffett has not one, but two Christmas albums. It was a pleasant surprise. 

Movies are also an essential part of my holiday, so we watched or half-watched (while we were on mobile devices) several Netflix and Hallmark Christmas movies. My favorite Christmas film is Home Alone. That movie came out when I was twelve years old and, in my opinion, holds up. 

There was a marathon on Hallmark or Freeform or whatever, so I watched Home Alone 2, and it was not as good, but okay. Especially while drinking eggnog. (I spiked mine with some whiskey for the first time this year. And it may have been the last. I think I prefer whiskey straight or sour, not sweet.)

Home Alone, my goto Christmas movie.

To my good fortune, The Muppet Christmas Carol was playing on the afternoon of Christmas Eve. And I have to say that Michael Caine acted the hell out of Ebenezer Scrooge in that production. It was a genuine shame he was acting opposite of Kermit the Frog, and I say that as someone who admires the muppets.

This is a Christmas Eve must-have.

Perhaps most importantly, I took a full week off of work before Christmas. That should have slowed things down a bit. It was relaxing, and I ate a lot of food, but I still felt separate or apart from the festivities like someone watching a carousel going max speed. It was a blur, and before I knew it, it was Christmas Eve and I was watching a muppet movie. Things did not slow down from there.

As per our tradition, we watched Scrooged the night before Christmas; it stars Bill Murray and is another adaptation of the Dicken’s novel. I like Bill Murray, and I love A Christmas Carol. So, this ritual gets me as close to knowing it’s Christmas as possible. That’s the point of a tradition or ritual, isn’t it? To mark an occasion. Feed me, Seymour!

Then it was Christmas morning, and we were going to the in-law’s house. They have an inflatable minion outside because my niece and nephews live with them. I opened a present—socks. But they were nice socks made by the Hanes Company. My infant daughter was surprisingly adept at tearing presents open. It was almost as if she understood what she was doing. But that thought dissipated as soon as she began chewing on some shiny wrapping paper.

We ate lunch and watched a parade, then after we finally left the family behind I hoped to put our Die Hard Blu-ray in the DVD player, a classic Christmas movie on Christmas night. My wife and I have done this pretty much every Christmas since we were married, but the baby had other plans. She screamed for two hours as we tried to put her down. And we went to bed shortly after the kid.

Christmas was over, but I must have known this was going to happen. I wasn’t going to be able to do everything I wanted to do. I intuited that Christmas would pass me by and I would need an extra day. And that’s why earlier in the afternoon, I came up with a new holiday I’ve coined “Christmas Morrow.”

Fish and chips for Christmas Morrow. (photo: Andy Wang)

If you look up the word morrow, it means “the following day,” which is perfect. But as you might have guessed, I didn’t have a lot of time to come up with traditions. Part of the problem was that my wife was somewhat less than supportive. She suggested I try to enjoy Christmas Day as much as possible before worrying about another holiday. 

Despite this, I managed to come up with a few rules or traditions for my fledgling festivities. Eat something other than turkey. Fish, for example. My personal preference would be fish and chips, which ties the holiday into Boxing Day. It also gives Christmas Morrow the British connection it needs to make it officially Dickensian. And let’s face it, a little fish would do us some good. We’ve put on weight. 

Just happens to be set at Christmastime…

Eggnog that’s not past its use-by date is also fair game. Light candles to keep things cozy. Plan out your regifting strategy. Open late presents. Skip the in-laws and watch Die Hard.

I made this holiday Dickensian in name, but I think A Christmas Carol will be off-limits. The truth is Scrooge’s transformation has been known to bring a tear to my eye. And the grand ol’ Morrow should be a happy occasion. We’ve celebrated the birth of our Savior. Now, we’re just trying to savor the event without any of the actual day’s responsibilities. 

If you have your doubts about whether my holiday is entirely ethical or allowable, consider the fact that Christmas is technically twelve days long. You can take at least one of them to ease out of the merrymaking. So, let Christmas Morrow tide you over until next year, or if you’re really desperate, just until Christmas in July (when you can take full advantage of those Jimmy Buffett albums).

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