I had a little idea I liked.
S. and I have started talking about which holidays we are going to spend where. Meaning which of our families are we going to visit. My family has a semi-nonnegotiable Christmas celebration, but now that her sister has a baby, we want to go there. Neither of our families do a big Thanksgiving, but somehow we end up seeing someone. It seems like, to accommodate everyone, we will spend as many holidays as possible visiting family.
And my parents are divorced, so that’s really two families we need to visit.
This all means that, in trying to see everyone, we don’t have a chance to celebrate a holiday on our own, just the two of us. I have this vision of us getting a tiny Christmas tree, then sleeping in and making a late breakfast as we open gifts. Then, once we are fully delighted with our small Christmas, we will bundle up and walk down 5th ave to look at the decorations.
This, however, is never going to happen. It just won’t. Because we will miss family, of course, but they will also miss us. Which feels worse.
So I made up a holiday. “Treehouse Day” is the last Friday in April ,and it celebrates the last weekend we spent in our teeny tiny studio AKA the Treehouse.
I liked my idea of making up a holiday.
Here’s how you celebrate Treehouse Day:
-Go to a bar and order Rum and Cokes on a tab that you close out after two drinks.
-Play boardgames, especially Jenga.
-Leave the bar early because we are lightweights and need to go home. Mostly Grandmas.
-Watch the weird treehouse building show that I found on Animal Planet. But only watch the first five minutes and fast forward to the last five minutes (no one can watch that whole show, I’m convinced).
-Eat a celebratory cookie.
-Get twelve hours of sleep.
Now I added “Treehouse Day” to my Google calendar and will force S. to celebrate every year until we are 100 years old.