No Parenting Awards: Holiday Edition

Scores and highlights from a very pleasant four-day weekend…

– Vegetative:  At least two full days of just getting “jammied-up” and expending the least amount of energy possible.  Two half-hearted trips to the gym (Thursday and Saturday) for a couple hours of cardio, but other than that?  Fuck it.  i’m eating cookies and fudge.  Really enjoyed the down time, playing pool and darts with my children and friends.  We watched movies until our eyeballs damn near fell out.  Perfect holiday.

–  Going to hell:  If there was a hell, i’d have reserved seating.  As would my children.  The Boy picked up a lovely decorative item for me, which looked like a tombstone when wrapped.  Making a rookie religious holiday error, he pasted the “R.I.P. Jebus” tag on it.  i had to explain he was born on Christmas, and died on Easter… Regardless, it made a fine addition under the tree.

– Retaliation:  Not to be outdone, The Girl crafted a pretty brilliant response in the style of wrapping for The Boy’s gift.  We’d gotten him pool cues.  Naturally, they lend themselves to a suitably blasphemous holiday wrappage.  This was mildly complicated by the fact that i attempted to wrap them on Christmas Eve.  After damn near a half bottle of single malt scotch had disappeared into my gullet.  But wrapped it was….

– Trailer Park Christmas:  Wasn’t horrible.  Best part was visiting with my niece, JS* and her partner RE.  They enjoyed the “pimped out rollator” i’d prepared for Mom.  RE had some fabulous additional suggestions.  Her first question was “Did you get her a matching helmet?”  A “Dukes of Hazzard” horn, undercarriage neon, tubthumpin’ bass speakers and spinner rims… perhaps something i can add next year.  Mom liked it, plus the bag of home made treats i brought her…  Will continue the war-gaming in January, but for now?  A holiday truce…

* JS is technically a “step-niece”.  She is the only daughter of my sister, S’s second husband, G – from his first marriage.  The “skinny transvestite stoner” dude who commited suicide in a deer stand, after first killing his fucking dog.  Yeah.  But despite the obvious challenges of her life, JS is a loving young woman!  Amazingly, the “trailer park” clan is the most stable influence she’s had in her life, and she considers us her family.  She and her partner, RE, rescue cats – and may well have successfully pawned one off on me…

Next Station: Hell

Our small troupe of drunken yabs committed beer consumption enthusiasts has been at it now since November.  We’ve grown in size, and have gained an odd assortment of delightfully silly people along the way… drawn in by our raunchy stupidity commitment to beer drinking excellence.  Out last night for our weekly adventure, the original four had grown to ten. 

A young newbie to our group, who has already achieved Beer Excellence – earning the coveted Pub jacket – was across the table from Pickles* and me.  We were learning from the adventures of the newbie, and strategizing our necessary beer-fest road trip – which we must complete to achieve Beer Excellence, and score those fucking elusive jackets!

Sorting through our calendars, we settled on a Sunday in May as the day to make the daylong beer run.  This requires strategies for a full day out of town, determining designated drivers and making sure those with small children can secure the necessary kitchen pass. 

i asked Pickles if that Sunday would work with her schedule.   “But that’s The Lord’s Day!” she exclaimed.

The table silenced.  All eyes turned toward Pickles.  You see, we are not known for our devotion to church-going… or the religious arts…  In fact, we are skilled practitioners of the art of recreational blasphemy**.

After an elephantically pregnant pause, she and i burst out with insane belly laughs!  High fives were exchanged, the rest of the table relaxed, and went back to discussions of community theater hook-ups, walking through “hobo rape territory” and adventures with human excrement. 

But the look on the face of the young newbie?  Worth a thousand pints…

See you in Hell!  I'll be at the bar...

See you in Hell! I'll be at the bar...

* No.  Not even i am strange enough to bring my dog drinking.  This is one of the original four, so nicknamed because of her unfortunate run-in with a stomache virus after consuming a plate of deep fried pickles.  She has stated that of all the things to you should not hoark up when in the midst of illness, deep fried pickles is at the top of the list.  Right above “your own intestines”.

** By the way… if you Google “recreational blasphemy”, guess who pops up as the first entry?

i can has bunny

What is the world coming to?  Has the economic meltdown driven us to paranoia?  Fear?  Are retailers too spooked to order sufficient holiday inventory?  It’s a sorry state of events when i can’t do my usual “buy easter candy on easter morning while everyone else is at church” routine…

Making the trek to the local grocery store this morning, i was stunned to discover empty shelves.  Some cheap plastic toys and generic jelly beans.  There was nothing but some Opera Cream Crosses.  Seriously.  Jesus died so children could eat the symbol of the cross?

This is my body.  Eat me. (paraphrased...)

This is my body. Eat me. (paraphrased...)

There was NOTHING even remotely easter-ish left.  No Reese’s eggs, no Cadbury cream filled decadence, no hollow chocolate bunnies with cute faces that make you feel guilty when you chew them to shreds…  Not a PEEP to be found!  When did Peeps get popular?

from the I CAN HAZ CHEESBURGER folks...

from the I CAN HAZ CHEESBURGER folks...

Never one to throw in the towel, i had to improvise.  Granted, this only works because my children have pretty much seen it all, and share my twisted outlook.  Oh, and they’re in their 20’s – even i probably wouldn’t have done this when they were young.  Bottom line?  It’ll get eaten…

Biting off the "ears"?  Not recommended...

Biting off the "ears"? Not recommended...