Richard isn't a Christmas giver when it comes to the kids, not because he doesn't want to be, exactly, but because he's convinced they'll hate anything he gives them. So this year he bought cards and planned to give them money. I thought he'd cave at the last minute and buy real gifts, but by yesterday I gave up hope and went out myself this morning to buy stocking stuffers for Demi and some last-minute gifts for Richard.
It wasn't pretty. Hours of standing in line while tittie-biscuits behind the counter haggle over who gets the next cig break, dodging those stupid little remote-control cars, fishing through bins of kids' jewelry that looks like it was assembled by mentally challenged 4-H members. Some of the Christmas tree ornaments really baffled me. Whimsy's fine, but who wants circus bears? A monkey standing on a chair? An electric fan? Square-dancing pigs?
I caught myself looking at a pink p.j. set in Demi's size, thinking "Now wouldn't that be cute?". Then mentally shrieking, "Good God, I've become my grandmother!" Nearly every Christmas I got holiday jammies, so many of them I could've outfitted an Arctic expedition team if they happened to be size 2s.
I considered buying The March of the Penguins, then thought better of it. Sure, baby penguins are cute...for about a minute. After that they'd better be able to pull off some killer Brando impressions or something to keep more than my butt from falling asleep in the chair.
For Demi I settled on a very creepy book, Coraline. For a happy and chipper kid, she really likes some grim reading material. I once thought of giving her my old Babysitters' Club books, which my friend Athena and I adored, but no way would Demi like them. There's no body count. So Coraline it is. My dad recommended it to me and I thought it was quite creepy; it's by Neil Gaiman. Someone actually let him publish a children's book. That's so wrong. But, hey, Clive Barker did it and Stephen King, too. And wasn't George Carlin the conductor on Thomas the Tank Engine?
Anyway, after a day of shopping in the world's-largest-mall-with-two-bathrooms, I was drained. But I still had to pick up a jigsaw puzzle for Richard, a blue mountain landscape by one of the Group of 7 artists. I don't know their names. Hell, I can't remember the 7 Dwarves.
Since the mall where I bought the puzzle is a block from our building, I ran into Richard on the escalator. Over a coffee and a muffin I showed him what I'd bought and said, "You'll have to get the candy and something for Aaron and a few more things for Demi's stocking. I'm done." And Richard said, "Oh, I'm just giving them money." And that's about the time I threw a muffin at him. Not a whole muffin. Just a wodge. But I'm sure this will forever after be known as "The Christmas You Threw A Muffin At Me."
What can I say? It worked. Richard hustled right over to the drugstore and Radio Shack (or whatever they call it now) to get chocolate oranges and Ferrero Roche chocolates and an array of other goodies. (BTW, can anyone tell me why plastic Ferrero Roche boxes are built like bank vaults?)
Came home. Wrapped.
That was my day. Happy &*%$#@# holidays!
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4 years ago
2 comments:
This will also be known as "The first time Doug called to tattle on you and I took YOUR side." hehe I was proud that your throwing arm has improved. Do you realize that this is the first time you've ever hit what you've aimed at? I also don't believe that YOU picked out a ham.
Demi's old enough for R.L. Stine books too. She might like the Lemony Snicket series too; Dad did. ;) You're expecting my "Evil Child" to read Babysitter's Club; get REAL! Now you know how I felt when you wouldn't read Nancy Drew.
Where's the 2nd bathroom, I've only found one! I always thought West Ed was known as the world's only mall that DOESN'T have "You are here" information kiosks.
It's not like my aim improved, he was only a couple feet away!
Demi LOVES Lemony Snicket. She says she doesn't like books with happy endings; that narrows the choices a bit. I now realize that kids today look at Babysitters' Club books the way people my age look at Donna Parker or, you guessed it, Nancy Drew. Nancy Drew makes me gag.
Demi still doesn't like scary movies, though. Some dimwit took her to "Doom". I really wonder about her babysitters sometimes. While we were waiting for a parking spot tonight she said, "My babysitter honks and yells when people are too slow, then she spits on their cars later." Charming!
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