I’m very cranky. Or sulky. Yes, I’m sulky. Exceedingly sulky. I have to go to the eye doctor tomorrow because I’m getting old. I can’t see the teeny tiny print on my bottle of extra strength prune juice or the jumbo package of Depends I have stashed in my giant baby blue glittery purse. And I’m worried the doctor is going to stick giant needles in my eyes. I know, not likely, but it could happen…
I’m also sick of my kids. And my husband. And my barfing cats. And my dog, who is scheduled for a surgery which is going to cost me $4,000. For repairing a kneecap. A teeny tiny dog kneecap. Does anyone want a dog? Some days I wish I were invisible…
And now it’s Christmas. Oh yay.
Right now, as I type this, my husband is sprawled beneath our darkened Christmas tree, flashlight in hand. The tree lights have died. Yet again. Fantastic.
Oh, wait…..
Success, they’re back on!
So, the point of this post? Christmas. Ah Yes, Christmas. Every year I envision myself celebrating Christmas, eggnog in hand, in England. I have a sprawling county manor in the Cotswolds, with servants. Yes, lots of them. They brush my teeth, serve me breakfast of blood sausage and kidney pie. Then they hand me a giant vomit bucket.
Clive Owen, Colin Firth, Daniel Craig, Graham Norton and Ricky Gervais arrive for cocktail hour. Jamie Oliver cooks us dinner. Motorhead, Radiohead and a coked out and drunken George Michael entertain us. Oh, it would be a fabulous Christmas.
Wake up! Wake up! That’s so not happening. Great.
Tomorrow I have to go Christmas shopping for my kids. I’m not looking forward to it.
Here’s what they’re getting:
A bag of half eaten Cheetos
A live rabid wolf
Miami Vice : The complete DVD collection (one word: AWESOME)
Some sharp sticks for jabbing one another with
One bottle of Kabbalah water courtesy of Madonna
Botox injections. It’s all the rage for the under four crowd
I’m the best mom ever.
Oh crap. Lights are out again.
15 Comments
the Cornish country mansion happens to be knee-deep in mud, the flash gits you want to spend time with are far too busy promoting their crappy wares and the nearest christmassy gifty shoppe is miles away and you can't get to it because of the mud.
besides, electricity is by no means guaranteed either, the wrong sort of tree may have fallen on the overhead cables and your turkey is defrosting merrily and rotting long before the feast.
Merry Christmas!
I can tell ….. you are feeling pretty darn good about Christmas, just call me psychic .. I know it's a gift.
xx
no..that was psychic not psycho
Can I join you…because a drunken coked out George Michael may be just what I need this jolly season. But only if he is pantless…or something.
Cheers to knees! Lots of knees! I am thinking about getting mine done too, just to get the pain meds.
My my my, you ARE feeling sulky today! I need to send some of my devout friends to your doorstep to smile brightly and sing Joy To The World in 4-part harmony and hand you our popular pamphlet entitled "Don't Go To HELL This Christmas." That should do the trick!
I can't believe a good solution hasn't been discovered for making Christmas lights that work. I hope you feel less sulky, although I admit I like reading what you write when you are sulky.
Er, uh. Gee thanks Friko. You have completely ruined my Christmas holiday.
George Michael would have probably had far too much eggnog and vomited over all the guests anyway…
Oh Dustjacket Attic, I'll snap out it (tree lights back on!)
I'd still like you even if you were psycho.
A Vapid Blonde – I think getting George Michael to take is pants off is as easy as….asking.
Why is it that dogs knees are so expensive to fix? Good idea, I'm getting my done too!
Lesley – If you send your friends to my door, I will pick up some stinky hippies high on LSD direct from Haight Street. They will arrive at your home, code to your alarm system in hand, just in time for opening presents!
Oh I know Christine. I think the light manufacturers make them so you need to buy new ones every year.
Maybe I'll go the traditional route next year. Candles on the tree. Safe and "green"
Switch from whine to wine…or at least incorporate wine into your whine-a-thon. Hell, if you really think you need to do something holiday-esque. Mull a whole box of it and just keep drinking. It'll be January before you even know it.
Bah humbug!
plentymorefishoutofwater.blogspot.com/
If you reconsider your Christmas plans,
I could totaly ditch my 3 kids and the dog that won’t stop urinating on the floor every time she gets bored or feels attention deprived for cocktails with you and Lemy. Let me know…
http://www.theladyslounge.com
OH MY GOSH. You are so invited. I must warn you though…Lemmy does not shower. At all.
I don’t even buy my kids Christmas presents. They get so many gifts from the grandmas, they don’t know the difference. Figure I’ll save some money and buy myself something nice. Like a trip to the Bahamas. Alone.
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