Aliens and Mummies and Owls, Oh, My!

I’m a weird son of a bitch. Just saying. But even I didn’t expect my input to affect our Christmas decorations this much.

Yup. My name is Rory.

This weekend, while we were getting out Christmas stuff, I opened a nice big bag which had three beautiful stockings in it. Each of them was handmade for the members of my family. I wasn’t jealous, per se, but I did feel a little left out. Before I could even complete the thought, Jenny was asking me when I wanted to make mine, or if I’d rather receive mine as a gift.

Strangely enough, I froze. Gaping like a fish, I had no idea what to say. Then it hit me: If I made it myself, I could make it look like anything I wanted. I told Jenny that I’d make my own.

She promptly told me I wasn’t allowed to make it a weird shape. It had to look like a stocking. With a hearty sigh, I agreed, and we started talking about materials. First word out of my mouth was “color.” Jenny sighed, and went to dig some materials out of her hoard of fabric.

She came back with aliens and flowers. Totally “I’m tripping on acid” colors. My face split open with a crazed smile, and I laughed maniacally as I picked out the alien print you see above. My next step was to design a lining. I knew I wanted something weird. We went to a couple of stores, and looked at clearance scraps, the last dregs of fabric nobody bought. I came across the owls, and fell in love.

After obsessing for over 3 hours over how to make the owls “look right,” I ended up just turning the fabric sideways, and I was sold.

The stocking you see above is just crazy enough that it feels like “me,” and just fun enough that our friends haven’t run out of the house screaming yet. I decided it wasn’t scary enough. I pondered my dilemma for a little while before the Girl asked me about a little brown box sitting in a pile of junk.

Eureka! My battery powered mummy string lights. They were perfect. I hung them on the mantle above my stocking, and now my fireplace is appropriately terrifying. There will be no fat man trying to come through my gas fireplace this year. He’d get a heart attack upon arrival, and I’d get a good laugh.

The best part is that I now feel like my personality is imposed upon Christmas this year. The kids might have dozens of awesome ornaments on the tree, but I have fucking awesome decorations on the mantle. You’re welcome Christmas, you just got a lot more awesome.