The Morning After Christmas

In the quiet of the morning on the day after Christmas, remains of the holiday abound.  The tablecloth on the dining room table still holds crumbs from yesterday's dinner, the candles burned down halfway in their holders, a stray napkin and an empty glass sit waiting to be cleaned up.  The leaves remain in, stretching the table to its maximum length, filling the dining room from side to side.  Unused Christmas plates and cups, plastic forks and holiday platters collect on one end until the next trip downstairs puts them away until next year.

On the counter in the kitchen, dishes rest after air-drying overnight because we just didn't feel like drying them by  hand.  Things remain out of place, rearranged to make room for yesterday's spread.  The coffee pot is across the room on a different counter, and the fruit bowl remains upstairs and out of the way.  A carton of soft drinks, mostly empty, waits to be returned to the garage refrigerator, and the candy and cookies sit on the hutch, mostly uneaten, because we either ate too much to care for dessert or decided that peppermint ice cream was the better use of calories.

A few stray presents remain wrapped and under the tree, reminding us that not everyone we love was here yesterday.  Bits of torn paper and ribbon peak out from under a chair where they were pushed during the gift-giving frenzy.  New socks and pajamas and sweaters and books wait in piles in corners and behind the sofa, ready to be taken out of their packaging and worn or read.  The puzzle on the game table is finished, and an empty can of Diet Coke and a stray piece of party mix sit next to the puzzle box.  On the secretary, a camera waits for the holiday photos to be downloaded, to remind us of another year come and gone.

I turn the tree on again, not ready for Christmas to be over, and sit on the sofa sipping a second cup of coffee.   The kids still sleep in their rooms upstairs, and I'll stay in my pajamas as long as possible.  Clean up will be slow, if at all, because leaving things out extends the party and keeps the holiday spirit alive for another day.