What the holidays taught me about Mr. Right

Every year, a week before Christmas, my parents and I throw a little tree-decorating party. The party is actually a front — providing food, ice wine, and good cheer is how we con our friends into doing the grunt work of tree decorating, like checking each light bulb, attaching new ornament hooks, and untangling the garland. It’s a party, but it’s effectively the Tom Sawyer approach to white washing the fence.

The 12 Days of Christmas is a party-fulled season. With the exception of one black tie party, my folks and I throw most of the ones we attend. A generic holiday party in early Dec. Tree decorating. Christmas Eve. Christmas Day. Boxing Day. New Years Day.

All this cooking, decorating, and hosting got me thinking…

I need a teammate.

I am absolutely one of those people who would rather throw the party than be invited to it. I like hosting. I like to entertain. Part of it is probably due to a deep set insecurity and a need for praise. Mainly, I love bringing my friends and family together — I love to be a catalyst for good conversation and new relationships. Given this part of my personality, I realize that I want to be one half of a couple that entertains. I need a partner in crime. Someone that can play the part of host and enjoys doing so. Someone who wants to have all our family and a few choice friends over for the holidays. Someone who wants to plan menus. Someone who doesn’t need to be told to vacuum before the guests get here. Someone who will laugh away the evening with as we clear dishes and fill glasses.

there are a few other requirements for a potential mate that have come up while trimming the tree. Like he needs to have some basic handyman knowledge — fundamentals of electricity, intro to plumbing etc. A fuse in our tree-lights blew, which meant total tree blackout. I need a fella who can figure out it’s the fuse and change it. I mean, in theory I can do it (and I have, on more than one occasion), but i’d really rather not…

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