Test Case: Playing Santa On A Deadline—My Office ‘Adopts A Family’ For The Holiday On A Time Crunch

While some people think of December as a month to celebrate the season and snuggle in front of toasty fireplaces, many lawyers think of it as a time to meet their production responsibilities. And while typically December is a slow month in my practice area—my firm represents community associations, whose budgets for legal work are pretty anemic by year’s end—this year I was blessed with a manger-load of projects that clients wanted completed by January 1. To further complicate things, I did not have a single schedule conflict for any of the holiday parties I was invited to this year. Given that I am incapable of saying no to events at which cheese plates will be on offer, let’s just say this has been a busy month involving a lot of brie consumption.

Even though I felt beyond capacity professionally and socially, something still seemed to be missing. While drinking wine and pretending to watch the Seahawks dominate the Panthers, it occurred to me that this year our firm neglected to “adopt a family” for the holidays. Fortunately, my paralegals and I have a Seahawks texting thread that we use during games, and I brought up the issue. (My paralegals use the thread to talk about Earl Thomas’s injuries and Jermaine Kearse’s inability to catch a pass; I discuss the cuteness levels of each teams’ uniforms and mascots.)

Tara let me know that there was still an opportunity to sponsor a family through the YWCA. We spent a couple of days gauging firm interest in participating, given that it was last minute. We eventually pulled the trigger, as soon as I made the decision that the firm would pay for all the gifts instead of soliciting contributions from the employees. (My law partners help make and save money; I spend it. That’s the deal we have worked out.)

We were assigned a family of four on a Friday—two parents and a 13-year-old girl and 10-year-old boy. The children’s wish list was provided. Everything had to be wrapped and delivered by Tuesday. This was the sort of time crunch that gets me really damn excited. I prayed to the Amazon Prime gods to help us with our benevolent mission.

The first thing we did after panicking was delegate. Tara would pick up the grocery store gift card. Whitney would search Amazon for the remote-control helicopter and Star Wars Lego sets on the boy’s list. I would investigate whatever the heck these “Monster High” dolls were that the girl wanted. It turns out they are basically Barbie dolls covered in spider webs with green hair and vampire teeth.

Terrifyingly, Amazon was pretty cleaned out of Star Wars building blocks and demon dolls that could be delivered in two business days. Fortunately, my friend Ali was running errands at Target and was willing to pick us up two Monster High dolls, one of which was a Satan mermaid. There were actually two Satan mermaid options, including one with two heads. I went with the single-head selection. That’s what we do as lawyers—make the tough decisions.

After work Friday, I bought a helicopter that scheduled for delivery on Tuesday—the Big Deadline. I was playing with fire but willing to take the risk. Over the weekend, Marison and I both went to Target but were intimidated by the Star Wars Lego selection. Given that I am an Ewok fan, I doubted my ability to assess what the “cool” set would be, and I didn’t want to disappoint our adopted son.

On Monday, Whitney and I hit the streets for some shopping, despite the fact that I was mired that day in some litigation fun. We weren’t required to buy any gifts for the parents of the family we adopted, but as an adult I know that adults like presents too. So we got them some Seahawks gear and a throw blanket to use while watching the O-line leave Russell Wilson out to dry.

We picked a Storm Trooper Lego set for the boy, since a Storm Trooper was one of the few things we could identify among the Star Wars options. (Side note: I watched the new Star Wars movie this week and there were so many parallels to our national political scene that the show triggered my post-election-traumatic stress disorder. Consider yourself warned.) Then we bought kids’ coats that we determined were pre-teen chic, since our adopted kids sensibly asked for warm clothes and also need to be stylish.

On Tuesday we had a “gift wrapping” party in the conference room. (Whenever we need to get something done and want people to participate, we call it a party. Our Pre-Bill Review Party is always a real hoot.) Then we assembled everyone for a group shot, including some of the guys that were of no help at all but whose presence in the photo made it look like some men were actually involved. (Thanks, fellas, for padding the body count!)

We got everything delivered on time and got back to our jobs, with a little less cash in our firm account but a little more meaning to the season.

It can be really easy to focus on our own social schedules and billable-hour requirements during the holiday season. But—no matter what holiday you celebrate or whether you celebrate anything at all—it turns out there is always some time to make someone else’s life better. And there are ways to use that time efficiently, by delegating tasks and buying gift bags instead of struggling with wrapping paper.

While doing something good for the community was its own reward, one of the best things about this holiday project was that it really involved two “adopted” families—the family that we purchased presents for, and my “work family.” Perhaps the greatest gift of all for a lawyer isn’t love… it’s working with a great group of ladies who can get s**t done on a deadline.

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Allison Peryea is a shareholder attorney at Leahy Fjelstad Peryea, a boutique law firm in downtown Seattle that primarily serves community association clients. Her practice focuses on covenant enforcement and dispute resolution. She is a longtime humor writer with a background in journalism and cat ownership. You can reach her by email at [email protected].