Yeah. You know the lyrics. And seriously? This song is wrong on so many different levels…
The innocent explanation of course is that DADDY is dressed up as Santa Claus. So mommy is actually kissing daddy, only that the poor kid has no idea and is probably going to grow up with this terrible secret weighing him down and become… well, you guessed it: either a great writer or a serial killer…
As a matter of fact, my tongue was tied since my youngest is determined to still believe in Santa. That leaves me no choice but to listen, while pressing my lips hard so I wouldn’t burst out laughing, to their reactions to the lyrics…
“Is his mommy single?”
“Why is she seeing Santa Claus?”
“Is she dating Santa? He is so much older than she is. Yew…”
“Is she cheating on his daddy? Yew…”
Yew… aside, they found the video hilarious and fascinating. My youngest asked me to play this version several times this weekend. Right before bed on Sunday night, I heard both boys humming, actually trying to sing, the first few bars of the song. On Monday, when we were in the car listening to the “All Christmas Music All the Time” Channel (which is, indeed, the epitome of “Season Treason” perpetrator since they start playing Christmas music right after Halloween every year), the kids complained about the songs being played and decided to substitute with their own rendition of “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus”, which went like this,
“I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus underneath the mistletoe last night. La la la la la (off key off key off key)…”
Then my husband chimed in, “I saw daddy kissing Santa… OOOOOPS!” Ugh. Boys.
Is it the bizarre contrast between Santa Claus, one of the most benign, trustworthy, persona and something naughty even though they are too young (and for one of them, too immature) to put their fingers on it that makes this song so fascinating?
“When you are married, you are supposed to stick together.” Back on Sunday evening, my youngest ruminated on the only lesson one could possibly get out of this.
Then finally, he declared,
“I am going to go tell daddy!”
You do that, buddy.
Later my husband told me that my youngest offered this explanation without any prompting:
Mommy is on a break from daddy, and Santa Claus is on a break from Mrs. Claus.
Can I get an Oy Vey here? Oy vey indeedy.
* This URL links to the Jackson 5 version. Remember the times? When M.J. was a normal kid? In hind sight, if I had shown the kids this version, instead of the weird animated version with the slutty-looking mom and the perv-look-alike Santa, it would probably not have caused such an alarming, albeit hilarious, brouhaha…
I realized that my attempt at satire actually makes it even more confusing. My apology. I will lay it out straight: The “I’m a Racist” ad is ridiculous also because it predicted on the faulty assumption #1 HCR is mostly about the African Americans #2 Ergo I have been accused of being a racist because I am against HCR. OR, if you criticize my criticism of HCR, you are accusing me of being a racist. In my mind, #1 is incorrect, and therefore #2 is incorrect. (This is the argument I was trying to make by invoking the fact that there are also a lot of POOR WHITES who are trapped in the poverty cycle AND the arguments, on both sides, seem to have overlooked their plights).
The new ad “I Guss I’m A Lazy Ass” I am proposing here is for the Pro-HCR camp as a comeback. And it is satirical.Hard to convey “satirical” tone with words since you can’t see my Quote Fingers or Jazz Hands… It plays upon #1. The assumption by many in the anti-HCR camp (anti-Public-option) that people without health care are lazy asses who cannot hold a job, etc. Why should we help those people out? #2. This proposed ad would confront that assumption. #3. The prominent representation of white people (a la the prominent representation by the final Black guy in the “I’m a racist” ad), as sarcastically proposed, refers to the common assumption that Poor White People are Poor NOT because they are lazy but because they are unfortunate…
Anyway, it serves me right to be smug enough to think that I can tackle such a controversial and complex issue. This is such a charged subject and as you can see I am confused myself. There is probably no need for this update either since you either got me (for which I am very grateful and would you please come to my house and explain me to my husband?) or you have moved on to more important things (I would have done this if I were you too so no hard feelings), but I feel that I need to clarify things because I am anal retentive. The bottom line is:
I would like to see the government TRYING to help the truly unfortunate out, esp. the millions of children that are not ensured, and if that means I have to pay more taxes, I am fine with it. Will they make some bumbling mistakes along the way? You bet ya. But the expectation of imperfection should not be the excuse for not doing it at all. Have all the countries claiming to be a democracy really adhere to the democratic principles all the time? Are there not corruptions, nepotisms, all sorts of Jackassery going on? You bet ya. Does that mean democracy failed and we should just write it off? I am sure the answer is no.
This I believe:
“No one should die because they cannot afford health care, and nobody should go broke because they get sick.”
The Original Post (as published on 12-16-2009):
Many of you have this feature called Wordless Wednesday every, eh, Wednesday. But me? Not talking? When I have my own soap box right here? Ha. Therefore I decided to start my own tradition called WTF Wednesday.
And conveniently, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, together: what do we have here?!
My token male reader called me out on an evasive post last week, half-assedly commenting on the “I guess I’m a Racist” anti-healthcare reform ad.
Yeah yeah I know I just also wrote this big giant navel-gazing post about how I am going to ignore all of you and just do whatever I want. So I am going to ignore you right now for mocking me…
Although I have blogged about how I feel about HCR, his comment struck a cord. I was caught red-handed for not following through with my oh-so-big announcement of how I am going to just go ahead and be myself. YOU GOT ME DICK! (No, he really is a dick. I mean, that’s what his blog is called. Eh, never mind…)
So here it is, a week later, assuming (hoping, actually) that I am preaching to the choir, FWIW:
The video is asinine to say the least. As Professor Melissa Harris-Lacewell succinctly puts it, “THIS sucks the rhetoric air out of the room.”
First of all, the ads (and many comments circulating on the Interweb) unquestionably assume that RACISM operates on the individual level, rather than on the institutional level. Regarding institutionalized racism: You either agree with this, or you don’t. This is my pessimistic conclusion.
Furthermore, the ads (and the subsequent celebratory comments around the Interweb) wrongfully, yet effectively, turned the entire HCR debate around and recast the issue in an ultra emotional light, since most people do not deliberately practice racist beliefs and activities, and most people take it very personally, understandably, when they feel they are being accused of being a racist.
The real issue of HCR, in my opinion, is one about class: the Have’s vs. The Have-Not’s. And we need to recognize that in the U.S., the class issues are inextricably linked to race issues, due to our unique histories. Although many in the African American academia have challenged the “code words” used in the HCR debate, e.g. “Welfare Queens”, “under class”, etc., it does not mean that they are trying to “hijack” the HCR issue with race issues. The poor Whites will also benefit from an improved health care system. And do you know approximately 2/3 of all welfare benefits administered by the government went to poor Whites? Why is that in a discussion on HCR that could benefit all the people who currently do not have any form of health insurance across the board, we don’t hear about these non-non-White folks’ plights?
Somebody should make a video with all sorts of people speaking to the camera, “I guess I am a lazy ass,” to move the dial all the way to the other end: “You cannot afford health insurance, it must be your own damn fault!” Preferably featuring WHITE PEOPLE since as the thinking goes (as exemplified in the “I Guess I’m a Racist” vid) :
BLACKS <> NOT RACISTS : WHITES <> NOT LAZY ASS
Ergo, all these people that you saw just now? NOT Lazy Ass.
And definitely remember to show a mother with an innocent child who looks at her mother and asks, “Am I a lazy ass, mom?” That’s going to be some powerful shit.
I would have suggested Asian Americans in the vid to make the strongest point because of the whole “Model Minority” stereotype — You know: We work hard. We pull ourselves up by the bootstraps. We are good workers. We hunker down and keep our goddamn mouths shut. We never complain. Yada yada yada — were it not for the other stereotype of Asian Americans being immigrants and foreigners. THAT would have served the enemy’s purpose: LOOK. The HCR IS going to provide insurance to foreigners. OMG!
Some random lady “engaged” me on a debate on Twitter. Imagine debating someone on such a complex issue 140 characters at a time?!… Her argument comes down to: I have done my part. Why should I give more? The government should get out of the business of trying to tell ME how I should spend my (husband’s) hard-earned money. AND, this sort of sums up her position: “I pay tax because I HAVE TO. I give money to charity, through my church, already.” At that point, I said, “Do you seriously want to engage in a political debate with someone who was just talking about tits on Twitter?”
That was the moment when I became deeply convinced that there is NO way we are going to change each other’s mind. None.
That was the moment when I fell in love all over again with Jon Stewart.
p.p.s. The funniest, most scathing, most intelligently sarcastic, and in my mind, the most effective comeback was found on The AWL:
“I’m of the opinion that it’s always great to see an oppressed group of people attempt to reclaim a word that has been used in the past to cause hurt and shame. I’m thrilled for Republicans that they’re trying to take the ‘racist’ label back.”
I am never taken seriously on the hardcore race/social justice discussion website Racialicious. But it is ok. I still visit often and once in a while cannot help but put in my $0.02 worth and continue to be ignored by the other commenters that are a lot more serious than I am… Because…
I see the term “politically correct” or “politically incorrect” as the new “I am sorry but no offense” or the new “with all due respect”. It is mostly used with “quotation marks” and often accompanied by “wink wink”. I think from now on when somebody uses the term in the “quotation mark” way, we should combat it with Jazz Hands…
I thought that was a brilliant idea. No?
Dr. Evil - Abuser of Quote Fingers
vs.
Possibly the most macho Jazz Hands you'll ever see
I was thinking since I am all over the map going from warm fuzzy pictures of my kids smiling like angels to crazy ass inappropriate jokes and cursing to crazy ass all-out ranting on people/events/things that piss me off. I either have ADHD or Bi-Polar, I realized, or as my husband would gladly tell you, “Insane in the Membrane”. I was thinking, perhaps I should create a Warning System for my blog.
Don't you wish there is such a system for everything in life?
I really like how Homeland Security did the color coded chart because, as we all know, homo sapiens (“Not that there’s anything wrong with it.”) are visual animals. Really, when I see the ORANGE color at the airport, I become appreciative and understanding of the 1-hour wait at the security line. When disaster strikes, nothing is going to get my fat ass moving faster than seeing a RED flag waving in the air.
Won’t it be cool if I have a Warning System for this blog, before you start reading a post, you would know what to expect:
Blog Advisory System: Don't say I didn't warn you!
Of course, after an hour of working on my Blog Advisory system, I realized that no Advisory System is going to reach the goal of MECE: Mutually Exclusive and Collectively Exhaustive. Mock ye not. This is something the McKinsey & Co. consultants live and die by. And they get paid big bucks for being anal retentive. No shit. For instance, it worries me that the heartless dicks and grouchiest bitches amongst you will need a special warning such as this one:
Well, like I said, don’t say that I didn’t warn you…
The following is a collection of jokes emailed to me by more than one of my girlfriends. It warms my heart whenever I see these jokes spread like wild fires: I know, I am not alone. And it comforts me. It gives me strength to ignore the gloating from the bitches who claim that their husbands help around the house on a regular basis. Sometimes, they even IRON! If you are one of those lucky bitches gals, good for you. Now go watch your husband iron. For the rest of us, I share with you the jokes that elicit both laughter and tears within me, because of the grain of truth.
The Why’s of Men
1. WHY DO MEN BECOME SMARTER DURING SEX?
because they are plugged into a genius.
2. WHY DON’T WOMEN BLINK DURING SEX?
because they don’t have enough time.
3. WHY DOES IT TAKE 1 MILLION SPERM TO FERTILIZE ONE EGG?
because they don’t stop to ask directions.
4. WHY DO MEN SNORE WHEN THEY LIE ON THEIR BACKS?
because their balls fall over their butt-hole and they vapor lock.
5. WHY WERE MEN GIVEN LARGER BRAINS THAN DOGS?
so they won’t hump women’s legs at cocktail parties.
6. WHY DID GOD MAKE MEN BEFORE WOMEN?
because you need a rough draft before you make a final copy.
7. HOW MANY MEN DOES IT TAKE TO PUT A TOILET SEAT DOWN?
don’t know…..it never happened.
8. WHY DID GOD PUT MEN ON EARTH?
because a vibrator can’t mow the lawn.
_____________________________________
One day my housework-challenged husband decided to wash his sweatshirt. Seconds after he stepped into the laundry room, he shouted to me,
“What setting do I use on the washing machine?”
“It depends,” I replied. “What does it say on your shirt?”
He yelled back, “University of Oklahoma…”
_____________________________________
A couple are lying in bed…
The man says,
“I am going to make you the happiest woman in the world.”
The woman replies,
“I’ll miss you…”
_____________________________________
“It’s just too hot to wear clothes today,” Jack says as he stepped out of the shower, “honey, what do you think the neighbors would think if I mowed the lawn like this?”
“Probably that I married you for your money,” she replied.
_____________________________________
Q: What do you call an intelligent, good looking, sensitive man? A: A rumor
Q: Why do little boys whine? A: They are practicing to be men.
Q: What does it mean when a man is in your bed gasping for breath and calling your name? A: You did not hold the pillow down long enough.
Q: How do you keep your husband from reading your e-mail? A: Rename the mail folder ‘Instruction Manual.’
_____________________________________
Dear Lord,
I pray for Wisdom to understand my man; Love to forgive him; And Patience for his moods. Because, Lord, if I pray for Strength, I’ll beat him to death.
AMEN.
p.s. I guess I am a sexist. The reverse sexist.
p.p.s. Since I came out and “ownded” it, I therefore get a free pass, right?! I LOVE being a bitch!
p.p.s. I can’t help it, I have to sneak this in: Do you think it is possible to be a reverse sexist? That jokes like this are sexist? That jokes like these incite violence against men? (Ok, ok. Elin Nordegren beat Tiger Woods because he was snacking. A lot. From a multitude of takeout restaurants…) You know, that it is legitimate for a man to complain that he fails to get a job, a promotion, college admission because the slot was given to a woman? That because something like that may have happened to him, or a friend’s friend, it is a proof that reverse sexism exists institutionally? I wonder how much someone’s thoughts on / feelings about this are aligned with his/hers for reverse racism?
I am trapped in a hotel in a Boston suburb. Therefore I did what I always do in this situation: I did the grown-up thing. I went to the bar and got myself multiple drinks, got myself drunk and depressed. Depressed. Apparently alcohol is a depressant. Shit! So that’s what I have been doing wrong. I am always a bit embarrassed by my being a sad, teary drunk. So it is not me. It is the alcohol.
Do you know what cures drunkenness and self-pity before you can say Xanax? A convenient case of indignant outrage. Courtesy of hotel cable TV. Yeah, smart ass. Not porn. I wish it were porn. At least it would not have left such a bad taste in my mouth.
The commercial that is getting lots of positive feedback on conservative blogs and websites shows a bunch of white people Euro-Americans looking into the camera, sprinkled in between with three non-white-looking people, and of course, with a mother and her toddler daughter who is sucking on her lollipop, all wide-eyed and innocent. The mother, looking into the camera, says, “I guess we are racists.” (Is your daughter even old enough to be against the healthcare reform? No? Then she is fine. We don’t know about you though. <– Just kidding! You people have no sense of humor… <– Just kidding! Again!! Did you see what I am trying to accomplish here? I slay me.) The commercial ends with a young, nice-looking African American* man saying, “I guess I am a racist.” (Congratulations, dude. You just got your one and most likely only starring role as an aspiring actor!)
* Someone is very proud of that ending. What a strong finish! See? It’s a black man = He cannot be racist = All the others lily white folks cannot be racist either. Hurray! Martyrs, all of us. “I am Spartacus!” *Cough Cough*
I am the Queen of Passive Aggressiveness. Yet I am floored by the rampant passive aggression exhibited in this video. They must have consulted the Italian, Chinese and Korean mothers in the world. (Sorry, ladies, I love you guys. But have you seen yourselves in the soap operas? Yikes!)
This is what I call Preemptive Jackassery. This is similar, similar ONLY in my poorly-formed analogy since I have had too much to drink at the hotel bar by myself, and NOT in degree, to my calling myself a bitch which liberates me from doing all bitchy things.
“I guess I am a bitch BUT your baby really is ass ugly.”
“I guess I am a bitch BUT those jeans do make your butt look fat.”
“I guess I am a bitch BUT my honor-roll student can totally kick your bully kid’s ass.
Or your calling yourself a dick so you can kick baby kittens.
Or my husband’s saying preemptively, “Honey, I know I am an asshole” just to get out of doing housework throughout the entire marriage.
Remember how Newt Gingrich called Judge Sonia Sotomayor a Racist?
Finally, one thing we can all agree on: we are ALL racists. What’d ya know?
Well, what’d ya know? There’s more.
Sarah Palin reportedly left Hawaii (where she went to the first of the four colleges she attended) because, cough cough, the presence of so many Asians and Pacific Islanders made her uncomfortable: “They were a minority type thing and it wasn’t glamorous, so she came home.”
I have to say, she is being quite brave by still wanting to run for the President in 2012 despite her fear. Think of all the Asian people she needs to meet when she runs for POTUS AND all the Asian countries she needs to visit when she becomes POTUS? She will need to meet with Chinese government officials, mostly male most likely, and shake their hands. Yeeeewwww! It’s going to be like the Indiana Jones trope: “Snakes, why did it have to be snakes?”
Note to self: Listening to PRI Selected Shorts podcasts while cleaning the house is a sure way that your mind will become overactive and that you will have trouble falling asleep.
I will pay for this indulgence: lying down on my Therapy Couch and talking to you all, my imaginary friends, (I am going to start calling you Soren Lorensen I think…) soon since I have a 6:30 am flight to catch and I have not packed yet. Coming here has clearly become a serious addiction. I carry this urge at my throat to write something down all day long. I am afraid to open my mouth lest a scream may come out.
I often panic when I am made aware of this since it feels so similar to Narcissism…
Someone very wise, probably wiser than Confucius since she is female (and Confucius was obviously not) and women rock because of our uterus, that I have had the privilege of meeting through this little patch of heaven I call my Therapy Couch (or hell on some bad days I won’t lie to you) told me that she could tell that “blogging is both a creative outlet and just outlet” for me.
She was right. When I first started doing this, I really did not expect anybody to come by and get into a conversation with me. I saw this as a different medium of talking to myself since I have been doing that inside my head for a long time. Why not? I simply jotted down whatever came to my mind. No self-censorship. And no editing either, to be very honest with you.
It felt like liberation from Facebook. From the potential for censure by family, friends, colleagues. It felt like liberation from Twitter. From the bondage of 140 characters. And it felt like the earth after rain. It felt good.
When I began to have supportive friends who stop by on a regular basis, to check me out and make sure that I am still operating in a socially acceptable manner, I was flattered yet incredulous. “Surely they have mistaken me for someone else, or something else.” With that self-congratulatory realization of “OMG I have fans” came the burden to please. Or at least, since I have no mental filter once my mouth starts running, the fear for offense. The desire to please everybody, nay, the compulsive need to please everybody is one of those soul-killers that I am trying to escape. I am afraid I may have lost my way.
At the risk of sounding like I am trying to recast myself as the cliche in I’ve Never Been to Me… I am getting back on my journey to understand myself better. The peeling of the onion. What is more important though, is that once I find myself, I really need to just be myself. Perhaps the being and the finding happen at the same time.
So…
Dear Soren Lorensen,
I hope you will stay. But if you outgrow me or the other way around, I wish you the very best.
As always, a pretentious rambling such as this will not be complete without a quotation from a famous, yet just a tad out there, writer. Preferably by e. e. cummings. Here it is.
The State of New York voted down the gay marriage bill yesterday. By a vote of 38 to 24. There are 32 Democrats. Somehow I am not too surprised. Not because I am familiar with the NY political scene, but lately people have been letting me down. I am losing faith. (Don’t worry. This is supposed to be an inspiring post!)
Tea Parties.
Townhall crazies.
Birthers.
People who don’t know that you CANNOT be a Nazi AND a Communist at the same time.
Sarah Palin’s book, on the New York Times Bestseller list.
The fact that now I can remember Rush Limbaugh with fondness. Ah, the good old days before I was made aware of the existence of one Glenn Beck.
Glenn Beck.
I found the panacea for my doom and gloom as far as humanity is concerned today: Senator Diane Savino, a Democrat from Staten Island. Or rather, since we all should be wary of blind hero worship: we learned of her strong position on one issue today, and I plan to reserve my full-throttle love affair with her until I have a chance to know more about her other political beliefs and standings. But I will say this:
I am absolutely in love with her speech at the New York Senate floor yesterday defending the rights of gay people to be legally married.
The video of her speech is turning into the latest, hottest Internet Meme as I write. At least in the parts of the cyber world that I wander. People were elated to witness an impassioned speech explaining why voting YES to gay marriage is the right thing to do, that is at the same time rational, humorous, engaging, and moving. Perhaps the defeat in the State of New York is not for naught. Here is the silver lining: a plainspoken, easy to understand, relatable argument, from a Roman Catholic nonetheless.
* Like a dork, I sat down, listened to her while frantically trying to type down her words. So I can read them again. So I can read them out loud to anybody who would listen. Like a great Jon Stewart episode that speaks volumes of truth amidst the laughter. The transcripts for the highlights of her 7-minute speech is after the jump. IF you don’t feel like watching the video, or perhaps you disagree (and if so, I appreciate your staying around), please do read the highlights. I typed them out for you, my imaginary friends!
On the fundamental of the gay marriage bill:
“This vote is not about politics. It is not about democratic politics, or republican politics…
This vote is not about an issue of politics. This vote is about an issue of fairness and equality, not political. It is the fairness of two people, who are of the right age, of sound mind, who choose to live together, share everything together, and want to have the same protection that the government granted those of us who have the privilege of marriage and treated it so cavalierly in our society.”
On how she helped someone else see her point:
At 3:09, Senator Savino tells the story about her encounter with a stranger who stuck his head inside her car and asked her whether she was going to vote YES, and why. She reminding him that they could, as a matter of fact, go and get married at the city hall the next day, and nobody would question the quality of their relationship. Their commitment to the marriage.
“Do you think we are ready for that kind of commitment?”
The man saw her point.
On the role of the government as far as marriage is concerned:
“We in the government do not determine the quality or the validity of people’s relationships. If we did, we would not issue three quarters of the marriage license we do.”
On “what we are really protecting”
“Let me ask you something ladies and gentlemen, what are we really protecting?”
“Turn on the television. We have a wedding channel on cable TV devoted to the behavior of people on their way to the altar. They spend billions of dollars, behave in the most appalling way, all in an effort to be princess for a day. You don’t have cable television? Put on network TV. We’re giving away husbands on a game show. You can watch The Bachelor, where thirty desperate women will compete to marry a 40-year-old man who has never been able to maintain a decent relationship in his life. We have The Bachelorette in reverse… That’s what we’ve done to marriage in America, where young women are socialized from the time they’re five years old to think of being nothing but a bride. They plan every day what they’ll wear, how they’ll look, the invitations, the whole bit, they don’t spend five minutes thinking about what it means to be a wife. People stand up there before god and man even in Senator Diaz’s church, they swear to love, honor and obey, they don’t mean a word of it. And so if there’s anything wrong, or any threat to the sanctity of marriage in America, it comes from those of us who have the privilege and the right, and we have abused it for decades.”
The powerful conclusion that should be the rallying cry for the march:
“We have nothing to fear. We have nothing to fear from people who are committed to each other. who want to share their lives, and protect one another, in the event of sickness, illness or death.
We have nothing to fear from love and commitment.”
Update: Andrew Sullivan over at The Atlantic explained what I called the “silver lining” a lot more eloquently, with more punch (which is expected since I am not a writer but a stream-of-consciousness-typer-aka-excuse-for-illogical/bad-writing). And I am loving it too. There is hope, peeps. There is hope.
“[E]very time this question is thoroughly debated, and each time we put ourselves, our dignity and our families on the line, we win even if we lose… Civil rights movements always move forward by occasionally moving backward. And at each moment in the struggle, those unpersuaded watch us, how we respond, who we are. Anger and sadness are more than legitimate responses. But so are calm and confidence.” Andrew Sullivan
Update: I found a blog whose host took the time out to transcribe the entire speech. Amazing!
If not for the end of NaBloPoMo, I would not have been so eager to see December, in all honesty.
Who's your daddy?!
Sorry, December. It’s not you. On second thought, actually, it is you.
I am just remembering the things I need to accomplish before we get on the plane to DC for Christmas on December 20. I am too scared to start making the list. Christmas shopping is the least of my worry right now. (Hello! Walgreens and CVS!) Real Fear #1 is that I may need to send out a Christmas card, NOT with the adorable picture of my kids smiling after I yell “DAMN IT! SMILE NOW OR I WILL DO IT FOR YOU!” which sadly is an annual occurrence, BUT of a picture of James Garfield since it is extremely tempting AND it just seems so much easier than trying to capture the smiles of my kids in the midst of whining, grabassing and soon sobbing.
(Do we have an English teacher in the house? I am sure the above sentence is a prime example for teaching your students how to fix grammatic errors. You can use it for free. You are welcome).
Real Fear #2, or perhaps it is simply Annoyance #1: Advent Calendar. HOW TO FILL THAT SUCKER EVERY SINGLE DAY MORNING? Oh, and REMEMBER TO FILL IT EVERY MORNING. That would help.
I forget, the way I forget that “tooth fairy brings a coin the night you lost your tooth”, saved only by crawling under the bed and yelling, “Oh, honey, look! It is here all along. It just fell!”
An advice to you out there without an Advent Calendar but are considering it: Do NOT do it. But if you must, make sure you get the Advent Calendar with BIG spaces for the stuff. Ours has itzy bitzy spaces that are meant for the Lilliputians. I kid you not. It is a great source of stress for me every year, trying to figure out WHAT in the hell I can shove into that tiny hole, for TWO kids.
I decided on Quarters last year. I was so proud of myself: Who does not like cash?
Well, my kids don’t.
You think I can get pieces of coals that can fit in that box?
