The holidays are a time of year where many of us want to make sure everything is as "perfect" as possible for the people we care about.
But who are we kidding? If everything was "perfect," there would be nothing to look back on.
Yes, the turkey can be as succulent as ever; you may have received the gift you really wanted; all of the lights on your house are working (and you didn't fall off the roof); and you visited almost every winter market in Metro Vancouver.
If I may be so bold, and I've only come to realize this recently, the small moments of imperfection, disaster and down right clumsy are the most joyful.
This is my second Christmas as a parent. My kid was only six months old when they first experienced the holidays.
As this was the case, they barely knew what was going on, so it made the traditional mall Santa Claus photo all the more easier.
Fast forward a year; they understand their surroundings a little bit more and are comfortable with the people they know.
Needless to say, my child didn't want anything to do with Jolly Ole' St. Nick and Dad joined in on the photo.
Why would any parent be happy about this? All of the other toddlers and young children were happy to see Santa, sit down and ask him what they wanted for Christmas.
Why was my kid the one that cried and twisted in my arms, even though they were in a good mood all day?
My reaction: disappointment.
Luckily, we found a picture that turned out pretty good; no reflection in the tears, eyes toward the camera and me putting on the best smile I could muster.
It wasn't what I hoped for.
But it was shortly after a few glaring looks at the image held up by a magnet on the refrigerator that I realized, "This is a Christmas memory we'll laugh about as we get older."
The first Christmas with my spouse was also memorable (sorry, but I'm telling this story).
It was 2020 during the COVID-19 pandemic. We were living in northern B.C. and decided to not to fly home for the holidays.
A few days before Dec. 25, my spouse cooked hot wings from scratch for dinner.
We ran out of Buffalo hot sauce, so they mixed it with regular hot sauce: the perfect concoction for large tears down our faces, sweat from our foreheads and some smoke fuming out of our ears.
A simple mistake, albeit brave and ambitious, but it's a first-year marriage story I enjoy telling because it makes me happy.
So, don't try to be perfect over the holidays.
At risk of being cliché, just be yourself, enjoy every moment with loved ones, throw baking flour at each other in the kitchen, burn the rolls, wrap the awkwardly-shaped gift the way you want to, and let your pet topple the tree to the ground.
You'll thank me later.
Have a safe, joyous and forgiving Christmas!
