Sunday, December 19, 2010

Post Dramatic Stress Disorder

This is a guest post by innominatus' inner Grinch voice that innominatus tries to stifle but sometimes can't quite rein in. For the sake of those lacking imagination, this inner Grinch voice, if he were a physical embodiment, would look kinda like:

Now, onto the guest post:

Drama, drama, everywhere,           
              I cannot hardly think...
Drama, drama, everywhere,          
                  I need to see a shrink!  **

Alright.  The wife has completed her One-Woman Crusade to stimulate the economy.  When you go looking at the news and some vapid infobabe says "Retail spending rose sharply in the waning days of the Christmas buying season" you'll have me to thank.  At least I hope she's done.  Sheesh.  After this spending spree, Moody's has adjusted my bond rating to a new level just below "junk" and just above "California."  And the presents - wow!  You can barely see the tree.  The living room looks like some Mayan pyramid of wrapped objects.
Put a ribbon and a "from" note on each stone and stick a little tree on top, and it'll look just like my living room.

There are so many presents I can't get to the water reservoir in the tree base.  Yes, the tree is now going to dry out, burst into flames, and kill everybody.  Ho Ho Ho.  Why a real tree?  Well, it ticks off the hippies more than a fake tree.  Plus, it has "that smell"  which my wife insists on.  I say to the wife "hey, wife!  ya know I can go to Knecht's Auto Parts and get a little tree air freshener for $.89?  Or about 25 of 'em for what we paid for that tree?" at which point I have to dodge a flying frying pan.  So now the tree is about a week old and already lost all its smell, and is still going to kill us in a fire...

But that's not the all of it...  There are all those decorative doohickies that gotta be hung from it.  If we were single and petless, maybe I could be convinced.  BUT WE AREN'T.  We have dogs.  And when the ever-wagging yellow dog's tail connects with one of them ornaments, it's like ARod doing business with a hanging curve.  And I'm not talkin' modern-day skinny ARod.  I mean the ARod from about 5 years ago before the drug testers took away his juicebox.  Christmas Ornaments + Wagging Tail = Weapon of XMass Destruction.  That ornament is going... going... going... GONE over the left field sofa cushion.

Not only have we pets, we also have GRANDKIDS.  So on Christmas morning we're expecting at least four toddlers.  Do you know that they ALL want?  D'ohra the Explorer stuff.  And they got it.  And almost all of it lights up and/or makes noises and/or says things in Spanish.  Like the Diego Trike that has a working horn and yells izquierda when you hit the turn signal.  Yay.  They're all gonna be here at the same time, probably fighting over stuff 'cuz they're too young to figure out what belongs to who, but too old not to be selfish brats. 

"Hey!  What are you... NO! You can't give chocolate to the dogs [aw crap!] what was that crashing sound?  Whaddya mean you jumped your remote-control monster truck into the mirror?  What gets blood out of carpet?  We don't HAVE a chimney, so Santa comes in through the dryer vent.  I don't know why!  Do you really have to ask so many questions?  Probably 'cuz it is warm like a chimney!  Now please, quit pulling your cousin's hair!  Your mom doesn't spank you much, does she?  GAAAAAAH!!!!! I can't stand it!"


  1. Jeepers,

    So much for the season to be jolly.

    You can be thankful you didunt marry the lump of coal ex I did.

  2. Man O' Wonder: I may be prone to fits of exaggeration, but I'll ask you to keep that between the 2 of us. Actually turning out to be a really good Christmas so far...

  3. Sounds glorious!

    I wish we could have a real tree -- always did when the kids were young. Then we wondered why I always wound up with headcolds that progressed to lungs and wound up as bronchitis or pneumonia at some point during tree season. Turns out I'm really allergic to some of the tree varieties and the molds that hide in the needles and trunks. Plus, while everyone loves to decorate, there's not so much help in undecorating at which point the mold has pretty much bloomed into its high point in life and mainlines itself into your arms via needle sticks when you're trying to take off the lights and find the last of those baubles that hide waaaaay inside the branches where you so lovingly placed them out of wagging-tail harm's way.

    Your Mayan temple surpasses ours! Hooray for Mrs. Inno -- a grateful nation sends our thanks for the rescue of the nation's retailers! I think she must've teamed up with my husband. He "mastered" internet shopping this year to the point that I'm getting text messages from daughters -- to whose houses he shipped stuff destined for grandkids and others -- asking who this is for or that is for so they can wrap it. And he can't remember because he ordered so much junk. Heh.

  4. Heh. I have never heard a mega-pile o' presents likened to a Mayan pyramid, but the connection is obvious! Nicely done, Inno.

    I know about dogs and Christmas trees, as well. I had three dogs in the way-back and they ALWAYS figgered out imaginative ways to wreak havoc on the tree.

    You should unchain your inner Grinch more often.


Family-friendly phrasing heartily encouraged.

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...