Early Christmas Presents

Because I’m in the spirit of the season a little early.

.

1) When my son’s Boy Scout pack goes Christmas caroling at the retirement center, I let my shy, sweet husband off the hook and take the kid myself. Merry Christmas!

2) This annual holiday trek across the neighborhood with a pack of wild animals scouts reminds me that my son is actually normal. They all behave like war-mongering chimpanzees. I cut the kid some slack for at least two weeks. Merry Christmas!

3) When the scout master asked for a volunteer to play the piano at the retirement center and my kid, with wild and enthusiastic gestures, indicated I would be perfect for the job, I didn’t kill him. Merry Christmas. For the record, I have taken as many piano lessons as I have flaming-sword-swallowing classes.

4) For the fourth day in a row, Facebook’s top recommendation for me has been an article on someone’s dead or dying baby, but it chooses which of my friends’ Christmas posts is appropriate for me to read and hides the rest. Despite this regular trouncing of my holiday cheer,  I have not gone to Mark Zuckerberg’s house and pooped in his swimming pool. Yet. Merry Christmas. Or Happy Hanukkah.

5) While in line at the grocery store, Squish announced in a loud, Lifetime-Network-Christmas-Special voice “Mommy, I do not want you to hit me anymore.” And I did not stick him in the Salvation Army bucket and leave. Merry Christmas, kid.

*** For the record: Those of you who have expressed concern for Squish need not fear. I apparently had accidentally hit him in the head with my purse, and it displeased him. No Squishes have been harmed or will ever be harmed in the making of this blog, though I may follow through with my threat to sell him to the circus.

6) When my daughter came home wearing enough makeup to audition for The Rocky Horror Picture Show, I really listened to her explanation that she and her classmates were working on their makeup for their Theater Arts performance. Merry Christmas. And then I locked Rapunzel in her tower and threw away the key. I’m not perfect.

An interesting aside: the painting on the wall behind the tree was done by a black rat snake.

There’s less under the tree this year. I’ve already done my best giving, you see.

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49 thoughts on “Early Christmas Presents

  1. Squish dodged the bucket! I used to like to test Patrick’s embarrassment level while in line at the market. With gems, like, “Oh babe, we forgot the Prep-H for your, you know…” Loud enough for all to hear, of course. Patrick is too normal, kind, and loving to retaliate, but Squish just made me realize that I may still get my comeuppance. D’oh!

    Also, I bet Mark would love to find a jolly poop taking laps in his pool! Happy Holidays!

    • Maybe this is paybacks for me, too. But perhaps karma doesn’t realize it was NOT me who yelled “Child abuse!” when my grandmother tucked my sister under her arm and prepared for a sound spanking in the supermarket. My sister and I DO look alike.

      And Mark would totally deserve it. Totally.

    • I really hope that the people around me had kids themselves and know what kinds of stuff they are inclined to say. I don’t hit the kids, and I don’t play the piano. How the two are connected, I am not totally sure.

      • I think I know what happened — you play with Squish and hit the piano, and somehow Squish got it backwards. But you should really stop hitting the piano. You could hurt yourself. Merry Christmas.

  2. This is Hilarious: “I have taken as many piano lessons as I have flaming-sword-swallowing classes.” I am presuming you mean LOTS of flaming-sword-swallowing classes!

    You are a brave soul. I have not yet recovered from being den mother for a cub scout troop. (Should have been named “F Troop”)

      • I should NOT have been a den mother. Five ADHD boys (including mine) who hated everything to do with arts & crafts which was all we had to do that year. I wish I could have sent them on a long unsupervised hike. I was traumatized.

  3. LOVE this post…I laughed so hard my drink came out of my nose (not my proudest moment). Maybe I will poop in Mark Zuckerberg’s pool for you – Merry Christmas!

  4. I love #5. I love it so much. I don’t know you, Squish, but when you get older I think I have the perfect girl for you. She speaks your language fluently. I’m certain she’ll be an actress someday too.

  5. Yeah, what is it with the abundant dead baby stories? I see those, and the computer-generated wall postings of people who are addicted to some slotomania thingy and earning virtual coins. If you do not poop in his pool, I will. Merry Christmas everyone.

  6. I love kids and their non filtered mouths. I have had my kids say so much stuff and I’ve wanted to die lol. I think you have done a lot of giving but really I think the pooping in the pool would be awesome.

  7. I think all of these made me laugh out loud, but number 3 really made me snicker. My husband also has a knack for publically volunteering me to do things I would rather not do. “Of course, Rachel would love to have all twelve of you over to our house for dinner tonight. The more the merrier!” Grrrrr….

  8. Okay, it’s official. We both suck at gift giving. 😉 Me more so than you, of course. Come to think of it, I also gave one of my employees an early Christmas present recently. When they asked me the same question for the 10th time (even after they took detailed notes), I didn’t respond with “You idiot.” or “What the hell is wrong with you?” MERRY CHRISTMAS. 😉

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