There is A LOT that I can relate to in this song. Like, I get why she drinks alone at the end of the day.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
I LOVE my kids. I truly, truly do. I think they're great. Better than yours, probably. I want nothing but the best for them. Happiness. Love. Light. All of that.
But... and there's no way to say this without it sounding bad... I really, really want a picture of them with Santa where they are completely freaking out.
I think it's swell to have a picture of them sitting on his lap in their Sunday best with cute hair do's and pretty smiles and what not but for posterity, for the future, for them, I want a picture of Spawn I and II losing their minds at Santa. I will bring it out and show every boyfriend they ever have, pass it around at their weddings, send it in to their yearbook editors, and if they don't treat me right, slip it to the opposition party during election time for cutesy attack ad fodder.
But please. I'm not going to intervene and fill their heads with lies about Santa just for a photo op! I mean, different lies, other lies in addition to the societally accepted lies. Because making up lies about an unnaturally jolly man who works in isolation with child- like vassals, talking to animals, and stealthily entering homes whilst vulnerable children sleep would be cruel. We're just barely teetering on the edge of civility with this story. If my dream holiday picture happens, it happens. I will console them. I won't torture them and make them sit there for that long or anything.
I guess I don't feel bad about this scenario because I know that they won't be scarred for life. Ultimately, like any decent predator, Santa will win them over, year after year, by bribing them with candy and toys and we'll look back at the pictures and laugh and laugh.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
I have the best Christmas present idea! It would cost less than $20 and give the kids hours of endless fun!
I'm talking AAA and AA and D's and DD (is that a battery size?). Both stockings full to overflow with sweet, sweet batteries! Think about all the toys lying around that I've been too lazy to deal with: I'd have to find the right screw driver, use the screw driver, replace the batteries, and then use the screw driver again. After months or even years of these lifeless toys lying around collecting dust, they will be given a new lease on life. It will be like, well, Christmas morning.
Actually, the more I think about this- and I've been giving it a lot of serious thought, the more I think I should do a cull of these toys now so as to erase them from their memories by the 25th. And rather than giving them batteries for Christmas (which, frankly, may confuse them), I will replace the batteries in the toys, wrap each toy individually in pretty paper, and pile them under the tree! TA-DA! It will appear to them as though they hit the mother load and I will have spent a mere $20 while saving the planet (kind of). And then we'll put all their 'new' Christmas toys in a garbage bag and donate them to the less fortunate. Because life is cruel and twisted and the sooner they learn that, the better off they'll be.