• Beware the Christmas Pandemic!

    December 6th, 2012

    She has more presents than me. No she! No she!

    I’ve been the victim of a truly horrific syndrome this holiday season. It’s impacting my emotional health, my financial solvency, my peace of mind. It can strike at any moment, day or night for no apparent reason. The only protection against this insidious affliction is to immediately take to your bed, with all doors shut against any mutant spores, with pillows piled high atop your head so that NOTHING CAN GET IN!

    It’s the Neverending Christmas Pandemic aka My Chidlren’s Christmas Gift List.

    When I wake them up in the morning (“them” being a euphemism for my capitalistic spawn) it’s: “Slippers! A snuggly robe! A Phineas plush toy!”

    When we’re driving in the minivan it’s:  A shopping cart like that guy with no shoes has! A trip to Vegas! Cool Sculpting! (which they … “they” being a euphemism for my stuff-coveting mini consumers … think has something to do with tools to make ice sculptures, not freezing mommy’s fat).

    When we’re buying cat food at PetCo it’s: A Siberian Husky puppy! A friendly python! A rat we should name Elvis, because Elvis kissed grandma once!

    When we’re walking by a bookstore it’s: How-To-Draw-Steam-Punk-Emily-Windsnap-Series-Diary-of-a-Wimpy-Kid-The-Great-Unexpected-The-Big-Book-of-Lego!!!!

    When we’re at the beach it’s: A wetsuit! New boogie boards! A sand crab habitat!

    When we’re eating dessert it’s: A gum ball machine! Pennies for the gum ball machine! An ice cream maker! A waffle cone maker! An ice cream sprinkles Lazy Susan! A soda hat!

    When we’re reading our bedtime book it’s: A loft! A computer! A flat screen TV! A disco ball! A circus mirror! A dart board with mommy’s face if she doesn’t buy us all this loot and say it’s from Santa! A tent!

    I’ve decided I’m driving them to Joshua tree, which is on the way to Vegas, where I’ll pitch the tent having towed the shopping cart which will carry the rat named Elvis who will eat the sand crabs scrambling in their habitat and gnaw through a great portion of the How-To-Draw-Steam-Punk-Emily-Windsnap-Series-Diary-of-a-Wimpy-Kid-The-Great-Unexpected-The-Big-Book-of-Lego books before he is eaten by the Siberian husky puppy who will be devoured by the python who will subsequently die of gluttony which is all for the best as pythons thrive in the desert and enjoy eating little girls wearing wet suits, snuggle robes and slippers who dine on gumballs, ice cream on waffle cones with sprinkles and Mountain Dew sucked from soda hats until their teeth fall out while living in a tent stocked with a loft, a computer, a flat screen TV, a disco ball (but no electricity), a circus mirror, a Phineas plush toy and a dart board with mommy’s face .

    Meanwhile mommy and daddy will be on the girls’ brand new boogie boards after Cool Sculpting their muffin tops catching the early-winter rip curl off Rincon.
    Read more at http://aiminglow.com/2012/11/beware-the-christmas-list-pandemic/#beb1uUsfwtsMxtjH.99

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    5 comments > Write one

    1. Rosie Carrillo says:

      What visions the words conjure! Have fun! :))

    2. Lady Jennie says:

      My kids are mostly oblivious, thank goodness, although an ill-timed commercial can rock my orderly world.

    3. So funny! But an FYI- this will not stop with maturity. Neither the parents or our spawn.

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