Today's holiday blog is brought to you by NWHRWA president emeritus and pirate wench, Jennifer Bray-Weber.
Some believe Valentine’s Day is the holiday of love. According to my husband, Valentine’s Day should be renamed Commercialism Day, meant to test men’s adequacy at expressing their feelings while draining their wallets. But I digress, and this post isn’t about the February holiday. It’s Christmas, and Christmas is the holiday of love.
Sure, Christmas is the season of giving, celebrations, and good will towards men. It’s a time of magic, twinkling lights, and the much anticipated 24 hour A Christmas Story marathon. Did I mention it’s a time for love? Not the kind of love shared with family and friends. The other kind.
Let me explain.
On Christmas Day waaaay back in ’88, I met a boy and before the day was over, fell in love. Stupid, head-over heels in monkey love. We were starry-eyed eighteen-year olds and soon, we were engaged. I didn’t marry the boy, but that didn’t diminish the special memory of him and that Christmas Day.
A couple of years later, my heart played tug-of-war between two mischievous guys on the naughty list. That was the Christmas my stocking was filled with professions of love. My open sleigh runneth over, and like any spooked female filly, I ran the other way—far, far away, with bells on bob-tail ringing.
Fast forward a hand full of years to a Christmas party. Picture if you will a rowdy office shin-dig. And as all rowdy, butt-Xeroxing, drunken office parties go, things got a little out of hand. Most especially when the man I was dating got on bended knee and asked for my hand in marriage. See the trend? There was definitely something in the eggnog. I had to put a stop to this madness. So I married him.
Now factor in a couple of children into the equation, both born in the month of September. What does late summer babies have to do with Christmas? If you do the math you’ll know that both children were conceived during the season of giving. Boy, was he giving. Because child #2 was a complete holiday gift (a.k.a. surprise!), my husband has decided to become a religious man during Christmas, specifically a celibate monk, not even breathing in my general direction for fear of getting me pregnant.
Now you see why I call Christmas the holiday of love. It’s also the season for traffic tickets. But that’s a topic for another blog.
Jennifer's latest Romancing the Pirate Adventure BLOOD AND TREASURE is available at Amazon and other find e-book retailers.
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