I'm a Scrooge?

It's true. I'm 32-years-old, and I am no longer the excited child who used to overflow with anticipation for Christmas Eve. I now know for certain that Santa Claus is not real. There are no packages that arrive under the tree on Christmas Eve that say "From: SANTA".

I try to convince myself, in the weeks leading up to Christmas, that Christmas is worth getting excited about. I start to listen to Christmas music on the radio to help put me in the mood. I imagine in my mind that on Christmas I will will be sitting down with my wife and my family of origin, drinking wine and playing board games, and we are all smiling and laughing and feeling content. I imagine that all of us will have a relaxing few days together, reading books, going sledding, telling stories, watching the snow fall, etc.

And then Christmas quickly arrives. The run-up to Christmas does not feel as long as it did when I was younger. It sneaks up on me now. And when it arrives, it does not feel like anything special. When I arrive at my parents' home, dinner is being prepared. Soon it is time to eat. Then gifts are opened. But the gift-opening ceremony is not what it used to be. I feel a small level of anticipation/excitement leading up to the event, and then I realize that we have been doing this for roughly 30 years. It is so predictable. It follows the script. We open packages of socks, with everyone watching, and say things like, "Oh! That's awesome! These are perfect! Thank you so much!" Then we look at the package of socks for an extra moment to convey how in awe of the gift we are. "Yeah, that's exactly what I was just telling Joe I needed!"

"Awesome."

And then the next person goes through the same ritual.

Do my feelings of gradual disappointment in our American Christmas tradtions make me a Scrooge? I suppose they do. I intentionally avoided the tradtional Christmas Eve church service this year, which has been a staple of my family's Christmas Eve routine since I was a little boy. I just didn't see the point. I'm no longer a Christian, so I wouldn't be going for a religious purpose. I could have gone to please my family, but how true to myself would I be to suffer through an hour or two of a sermon I've heard repeatedly throughout my lifetime? I know how the pastor's sermon will go: there was a baby born of a virgin. His name was Jesus. He was the greatest gift God could ever give us. Then we all stand and sing songs about the story we just heard. Then we all go home. I don't think I can go through that anymore.

Maybe if or when I have children the excitement will return.