And *phew* now it’s the Best Day Of The Year: December…uh (looks at brand new Despair Calender, notes:
laughs deeply because it’s fucking true and returns)…December 26. The day AFTER Christmas. Not only is everything on SALE again, but that means that Christmas is OVER and I don’t have to deal with anything more pretending to be merry or liking other people again for another WHOLE year.
Which, hi, AWESOME.
No, don’t get me wrong, I like Christmas, but maybe it’s because I have a butt-load of children, but I’m about ready for it to be all over with by mid-December. I don’t want holiday themed hand-towels or soap or bras, I just want to go back to hating the world–besides me and my blog people–in peace and stop pretending to like everyone and everything in the name of Christmas.
Anyway, it’s over, I’m suitably happy, and while I’m now migrained, and sort of infirm, everything went well, even with the crotch parasites running around for the past two days like they were on crack. (note to self: do NOT put candy ANYWHERE near children at 7 in the motherfucking MORNING ever again)
I was roped into hosting Christmas Eve by the Persuasive Powers Of Guilt and I even managed to cook a turkey without making anyone sick. Turns out that the secret to a good turkey is a) shoving things up its’ butt and b) butter. Everything, except your cholesterol, is better with butter.
The smallest ones didn’t really care about opening presents (!!!) which makes me wonder if I actually birthed them myself, because there’s nothing not awesome about presents with your name on them, but once opened, it turns out that The Daver and I are excellent about picking out gifts for them. To be fair, though, they’d have been equally thrilled with a package of straws and some Solo cups.
The big one was happy to help them open presents and was most thrilled by his R2-D2 backpack which makes me SURE he was adopted because Star Wars is SO not my thing (I did buy the backpack for him on my own. I was VERY proud of myself). Unless it’s LEGO Star Wars, the video game, which is full of The Awesome.
Because this was The Christmas of Practicality for me, I’d opened up most of my gifts ahead of time, and wasn’t about to rewrap them, because that’s REALLY a pain in the ass. But I was given the ultimate Housewifey Present of a new hand-held vacuum (a Dyson!). Dave joked that it was to remind me that while I was trying to build My Empire this year, he wanted to remind me that I should refocus my energies on housecleaning*.
Then, full of Christmas cheer, I vacuumed up his scrotum.
All in all, Christmas was completely lovely and I am more than happy to see it in my rear-view mirror. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to try and extract toys from packaging that I’m pretty sure was designed by sadists. I will probably lose a finger, and barring that, at least many layers of skin.
Oh well, that’s why we have so many layers to spare, right?
Merry Day After Christmas, Internet! Your Aunt Becky wants you to gather ’round and tell her how your Christmas treated you.
*He really WAS kidding and I was the one oogling this vacuum like a freak for years. But I really did vacuum up the scrote. Because OBVIOUSLY.