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Every year, our finances would look OK in December. Forgetting January’s insurance premiums and February’s property taxes, I’d think we had enough to “really make Christmas nice this year.”
Then, at what should have been a shiny start to a sparkly new year, the credit card bill would come. I’d realize the cuddles and conversations were what made me feel so connected, not the presents (now months of debt). Why did I buy all that stuff?
All I wanted was for people to know how much I love them. Advertisers are selling us stories. We don’t have to buy them.
Mom really likes the placemant you made for her with family photos. Must have been a fair amount of work, but not much money?