Happy Poopy!!!!!!!

Ahhhhhh, December 31st........how I have longed for you and now you're here! You're finally here! This poop-crusted mess of a year is just about over. I will not bore you with the details of my trials and tribulations but as far as years go, this one can bite me. I believe I said something similar in this space LAST year at this time. Oh, I hadn't seen anything yet. 2010 trumped 2009. Congratulations, ASS MUNCH. I would simply like to ask 2011 to go a little easier on my delicate constitution. While I am grateful for the gift of the truly wonderful people I have in my life (seriously......a girl could not ASK for cooler or more supportive friends and family........you know who you are.........) I would genuinely like to have a year in which I feel as though I am able to breathe. Breathing is good! Deeeeeeep, cleansing breath.......breathe in, breathe out. I think that it's easier to accomplish shit when you do not feel like you are being strangled by a gorilla 95% of the time. 

That being said, I hope you kids all have a big, big time tonight. Be careful and don't do anything I wouldn't do. Although I'd do just about anything, so maybe you should exercise a bit more caution than that. In the words of my then three-year old cousin Ben (who was really saying a mouthful without knowing it) at the stroke of midnight many, many years ago, "HAPPPPPPYYYYYY POOOPPPYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!". Happy Poopy one and all! 

Drink the Deep Thoughts Kool-Aid

It's me again..........I just checked my little "Sitemeter" and I noticed that more people are outclicking on "subscribe to Deep Thoughts" which is WAY, WAY cool. If you aren't my facebook friend (and hell, friend me if you're not......I'm quite the friendly friendster) that's a good way to be alerted if I have some sudden burst of profundity. Which happens all the time. Or not. You can also become a "follower" which sounds very Jim Jones-esque but actually is not. No Kool-Aid here at Deep Thoughts! The only thing you're encouraged to drink around here is wine and tequila. And even then it's entirely up to you! So anyway, follow, share, subscribe, tell all your friends, blah, blah, blah.

Christmas '10

I know, I know.......it's been awhile since my last post. I have really been trying to be consistent but consistency is tough when you are in the middle of the swirling vortex that is Christmas. I was fine until last week. We had scaled everything WAY down. No cards, no gifts for everyone we had ever looked in the direction of, no hosting of parties. Everything seemed remarkably chill until the 20th when panic set in. I am a person who almost always has all gift procurement well underway shortly after Thanksgiving. I know myself well enough to know that "last minute" is not how I roll. I can't stand crowds and pushing and pulling. Hustle and bustle does not sound festive to me. It sounds like a hassle. Not only do I not hassle the Hoff, I do not do hassles. Hassles cause me to lose my shit. When I finally realized that I did not have gifts for my parents, or Dave or Jack's "biggie" not to mention stocking stuffers it was Monday. Oh, and I was sick. Not just sick but could not speak sick. Can I tell you how lovely it is to be braving the last minute Christmas crowds and not being able to speak above a whisper? Wait. It's not lovely at all. It pretty much sucks. And it also causes store clerks to state the obvious. "Wow! You lost your voice!" REALLY? No shit, Sherlock. I hadn't noticed. Eventually of course, it was all accomplished. We had a very nice, mellow holiday. Well, there WAS the fact that my brother had surgery on Wednesday and apparently nearly bled out. I think they might have had to get the paddles at one point. Okay, not really but it didn't go as planned. It would have been a better story if paddles were involved. It almost always is. Oh, and then my sister-in-law caught my cold. As she said, "Wow, this isn't really the 'This sucks but I can soldier on kinda cold', is it?" Nope. It's more of the "Weekend at Bernies prop myself up in a corner with sunglasses, some reindeer antlers and a cocktail" kinda cold. Oh and speaking of cocktails, did I mention that my parents decided that it would be festive to stop drinking over Christmas? They always pull that shit at THE most inopportune times. Um.....if ever there was an occasion TAILOR MADE for the aggressive consumption of alcohol, it is one in which you are confined to a house with your relatives for several days. BUT, in spite of all of the aforementioned difficulties, it was declared by Jack to be "THE BEST CHRISTMAS EVER". And THAT, my friends, makes it all worth while. Hoping that you and yours enjoyed your holiday as much as Jack enjoyed his. I will be keeping you up to your eyeballs in Deep Thoughts as we slide into the New Year as I can finally once again think thoughts be they Deep or Shallow. Woo-hoo.  

Over Gifting

I'm pretty sure I wrote about this topic at this time last year, probably because it bugged me then just like it bugs me now. Let me first say that I really do like Christmas. Truly. I get that warm fuzzy feeling. Although that may be the wine. They DO say you should carry the Christmas spirit with you all year long. Not a problem here........thank you cheap jug wine! What I have really grown to resent is the expectation that you must come up with a gift for every person you have come into contact with EVER as well as their offspring and sometimes their parents and household staff where applicable. As we get older, this list gets longer and longer and more and more intimidating. Last year I finally put the brakes on it. It's not just a time sucker and financial drain, in most cases it is completely disingenuous. Buying a gift should be something you give with a happy heart and with the true spirit of generosity. When I'm finding myself buying a gift for a teenaged boy I have not seen in years that is probably going to simply grunt when he opens it and tosses it aside, I resent that. That's not the idea, I don't think. Most of my friends kids do not NEED anything. I'm sure they'll get plenty from their parents, aunts and uncles, grandparents, etc. In all likelihood, TOO much. They don't need a $25 iTunes card from some random friend or their moms in Colorado. And then there are MY friends. I used to rack my brain trying to come up with something cute and clever for women who really DO have everything. And keep in mind that I do not really have a ton of CLOSE friends as I'm more a "keep to myself" kind of a gal. The blog notwithstanding. If I like you though, I like you a lot. I'm more about quality than quantity. So, it's not as though it would tax me to find something for the three or four girls that I would actually give a gift to. It's just become the principle of the thing. I would much rather give them a box of cookies and candy that I made to enjoy and share with their family than give them something they don't need because I am supposed to. I'd much rather do something nice for them during the year when they need help. Or if I see something that just screams out for them in June, then I'll buy it. I'd much rather get an unexpected cool gift than an expected one any day of the week. While all of this ridiculous consumption may be good for the economy, I think it erodes the true spirit of giving.  Bah humbug.  

PSA

Oh and one quick thing.......there's been a bump in Deep Thoughts traffic lately which is WAY cool. If ya like it, it's kinda like Beyonce says......put a ring on it! No, don't do that. But pass it along to your friends. Follow. Subscribe. "Like" on facebook. Share the love. 'Cause I love ya back. That concludes my shameless self-promotion for the day. 

Christmas Card

I am not sending Christmas cards this year. Primarily because Christmas cards aren't just "Christmas cards" anymore. They are basically a picture of either your entire family or of your adorable children that shows everybody you know how flipping GREAT your life is. If you look really awesome, you are in the picture for sure. How your husband looks is completely irrelevant. He's just a guy in a turtleneck that completes the happy picture. If you look awesome and are incredibly successful, you will want to make sure that the photo in question was taken at some fabulous locale. "Oh look, honey! It's the Green's! They're repelling down Mt. Kilamanjaro! Even the baby! Isn't that cute!?" Gack. But I digress. I have an 11-year old boy. That's it. And as you can see from the last time I made an attempt at a Christmas card, he's a smart-ass. It doesn't go well. "Look angelic, you little cretin" only goes so far. And after just announcing that if you yourself are in the Christmas card photo you must think you look tremendously tremendous, I sure as shit am not going to hop into the frame. What I should do, and very well might now that I think of it, is assemble my family and go stand in front of a trailer park or something. There's one around here called the "Flying Saucer RV Park" and the sign features an alien. If I can get somebody to take our picture you'd better believe there will at LEAST be a Deep Thoughts Christmas card photo comin' at ya hot. Stay tuned. I'm going to go scout out the location. 

The Grinch One, Jesus Zero

Hey Guys.......It's me Mol........this is my friend Greg Brainer's guest post!  If for some reason it doesn't format well, hold tight 'til Dave gets home and we'll fix it.  Enjoy!

That's correct, the Grinch has beaten Jesus on his own turf.  If you still believe there is Christmas spirit left in America,  get off your meds or sober up because it's gone.  Some may find my views bitter and twisted, yet they are that of a true realist scorned due to his once kind being.

Growing up as a youths during the 1970's, most have fond memories of what Christmas was.  Towns decorated with festive lights, a nativity scene in front of the public library, neighbors who actually knew each other by name getting together for caroling.  There was no such thing as last minute gift shopping on Christmas Eve. Retailers were closed and at home, where they should be, with family.  A Christmas day movie at the cinema was unheard of.  Yes, those thoughts almost make me feel warm and fuzzy inside, even without liquor.  

I must ask, where the hell did Christmas go?

Last year I had to run into the Meijer Thrifty Acres, now just called Meijer's, on Christmas Eve for some last minute food crap.  First time ever I noticed they were staying open until 10PM that night.  Nothing pisses me off more than chains and retailers who work their employees on what should be family time.  As I'm a regular, I know most of the staff including the special needs greeters. On my way to the checkout I grabbed an extra bottle of wine for my favorite cashier.  After a nice chat about what assholes she worked for I paid and gave her the bottle of wine wishing her a Merry Christmas.  She  immediately refuses my simple gift token due to it being against corporate policy and she would get fired.    Fired for a regular customer giving a diligent, nice store employee a gift????  Screw any motivation for good genuine customer service.  No no no, this certainly was not happening and I went and found the manager.  To my dismay, the manager reiterated corporate policy is no items purchased from the store can be accepted by employes  from patrons as gifts.  I then asked if I went across the street to Stinky's party store ( I don't know the actual name of the party store I just know it smells like ass inside ) and bought a bottle of wine for her as a gift could she accept that?  Perplexed, the manager was not sure however he was too busy to look it up.  His suggestion was to just wish her a happy holiday and not get her in any trouble.  At this point I was crazed and told this asswipe “it's not a holiday, it's fucking Christmas!!! If I cannot give a simple gift to one of your employees who works her ass off and always is glad to see me, corporate America has fucked up Christmas beyond repair.”  

Sadly, the bottle of wine I purchased with the intent of giving it to the cashier was the good kind - corked verses a twist off cap.  This made drinking it during my frustrated drive home not in the cards.  The time was around 6PM.  As I ventured along, I noticed McDonald’s, Chili's, Taco Bell, Lowes, all brightly lit and open for business.  Seriously, people need and want fast food on Christmas Eve?  For that matter, who the hell is going to be doing home improvements the night before Jesus pops out???  As I passed our town library, there was no nativity scene or even one single sign near it that it was Christmas.  My town is 98.7% white Christians. Who the hell are we going to offend by putting baby Jesus on the library front lawn???  This kinda shit didn't happen 30 years ago.

I could ramble more, but Christmas as we once knew it, is gone. On the bright side, maybe they will start letting us be nice at Easter since it is celebrating Jesus's death.....

Get Ready for Brainer.........

Yikes........I haven't posted this much in a day in forever. Most of you may have noticed that my last post was originally entered LAST December. However my very dear friend Brainer sent me a "guest column" if you will, and it caused me to recall "Ho ho ho, Dumbass". I read it again. And I stand by it. And I also remember why I got kicked off the board of the PTA. Stuff like that entry. And making fun of mom jeans. You'd think wearers of mom jeans would have thicker skin. Hey, I calls it like I see it. If you don't like it, I'm pretty sure you don't have to read it. Recall the person who asked me to please clean up my language. Answer? NO. Anyway, I will be posting Brainer's thoughts shortly. He is an even bigger smartass than me but he also has some interesting shit to say.  Oh and PS? Remember to "Follow" the blog if you don't already. And "share" the stuff you like on facebook. And if you don't participate in facebook, forward links to your friends. You're like Mollie's Little Helper's. Well, you and those pills my doctor gave me. They help too. 

Jack and the Beanstalk. I Mean Planner.

I love my child. Truly I do. He is one of the coolest, funniest kids I know. Has a rather mature sense of humor for an 11-year old and not only "gets' sarcasm but wields it like a sword. I like it. The only problem with my boy is that there is NO arguing with him. I have NO idea where he got that from. Okay, yes I do. There is also no arguing with me. Which is why it's a very good thing that he is upstairs right now insisting that Friday is the first day of Winter Break. It's not. It is the last day of school BEFORE break. He is telling his dad that it says it starts on Friday "IN HIS PLANNER". Gee, Jack.......I just got onto the school website and it says that Friday is the last day of school. "Winter" parties and all. Jack: "Well it's wrong. I wrote in my planner that it starts Friday". Apparently Jack has some kind of magical planner that makes whatever he scrawls in it happen. Oh, let's see......Monday......African Safari!  Nice! And on Christmas Eve, FAO Schwarz in Manhattan appears to be opening it's doors only to him for an unlimited shopping spree. Looks like in April there's something about a trip to the moon but I can't quite make that out. I've got few things I'd like to write in that planner........all day spa treatment at Tall Grass Spa, cleaning ladies every Friday, someone to do my bidding every day, etc. Gimme that thing. Oh wait. That's right. It doesn't work. No matter what Jack says, break officially starts on Monday. And I have just informed him of that. I think my exact quote was, "You can tell me it starts on Friday 'til you're blue in the face but it doesn't. End of discussion". And as I typed this I had a horrible thought. What if there's a snow day? There is a storm coming. And then he'd BE RIGHT. Oh God. Maybe that planner is MAGICAL. Jack and the Magical Planner. There's a story there. Part of the plotline would be that his horrible mother steals it and uses for evil. Too bad I'm not his stepmother. That would be better.  Gotta go. I've got a planner to steal. And Harry Potter-like world domination to plot. Move over JK Rowling. There's a new billionaire in town.

You Be Illin'

I am sorry but there is a BIG difference between a sick man and a sick woman. As cliche as it may be, it's freaking TRUE. Those of you who are facebook friends of mine are aware that Dave has been sick. He came home from work yesterday and said, "What did you say about me on facebook?" Uh.......I say LOTS of stuff about him on facebook. Apparently the remark in question was in regards to his terrible illness. People at his office were surprised he was not hospitalized given the gravity of the wasting disease described in my posts. When I explained to him that I was simply pointing out that he was horribly ill, (and yes, making fun of him) he said, "That's SUCH a woman thing". Well, being a big fat baby when you're sick is SUCH a man thing. NO PERSON HAS EVER BEEN SICKER THAN A MAN WITH A COLD. It's not just Dave. It's my dad, my brother, my male friends, my friend's husbands, etc., etc. For some reason a sick male (a notable exception being your sick male child......it's a mommy thing) is extra annoying. Maybe it's that our female brains are wired to need our males to be capable and strong. Provide and protect and all that. A sick man is neither capable OR strong. More like a big lump with a box of Kleenex. Scratch that. A MOANING big lump with a box of Kleenex. That sneezes and coughs. It's not that I'm lacking a care-taking instinct.  I was not berating him while he was feeling poorly. I asked him if he needed anything, fetched him water, and procured his medications. I even asked him if he would like something special to eat. Oh, and bought him popsicles. POPSICLES, PEOPLE!!!!!! That's above and beyond. But appropriate levels of compassion notwithstanding, I think a big factor in our lack of ability to fully sympathize is this: CHILDBIRTH. Nothing you can do, men........cold, flu, loss of limb will ever make up for the fact that for nine months or more we chicks were pregnant. And then either physically forced a child out of our bodies or had them surgically removed. Splayed open like a halibut I was. So maybe that's what it's all about. Poop out a bowling ball and then maybe we'll feel a little worse when you start sniffling. Maybe we're just a pack of bitter battle axes. But probably not. Or maybe it's the one time a man can let his guard down and be vulnerable. You don't have to be big and strong when you be illin'. You can revert to being a sick little boy in footy pajamas. And maybe you just want your mommy. But your wife is not your mommy, unfortunately and maybe that's why we aren't capable of treating you as such. Ahhhhh, geez......I can hear him about to hack up a lung. Better go check on him. And call 911. Dispatcher: "What's your emergency?" Me: "My husband has a cold". Dispatcher (speaking into radio): "Flight for Life??? We have a pick-up in Morrison. STAT." 

Single Parent

Well, it's Thursday everybody! The college kid and bored housewives portal to the weekend! And I'm looking forward to it actually. You see, last weekend Dave was in Michigan for a couple of shows. He's a rock star, in case you didn't know. Well, a guy with a guitar that gets paid money to sing. He's also a real estate broker so that kinda disqualifies him as "rock star" per se. He'll rock your world! Then show you a nice bungalow in Berkeley. Recently remodeled! And then he'll smash a guitar. But anyway, he was in Michigan. His being in Michigan did not bother me so much. What did bother me was figuring out what to do as a "single parent" with my eleven-year old son. I realized that a lot of what goes on around here on the weekends is sports related. It's Dave and Jack watching college football on Saturday. And NFL football on Sunday. And college hoops in between. And when there is a commercial, they are throwing a football around my living room. It's a lot of man shit. So I'm wondering what in the HELL I going to do all weekend to entertain this child. I should have been more worried about entertaining myself. He was plenty occupied. He had his friend over on Friday night. I actually had a friend over too. Sat in the kitchen and chatted while the kids were downstairs. So that wasn't so bad. Saturday morning I made him breakfast and he chilled while I did typical housewife crap. Including running around the back yard frantically waving a piece of pizza in an attempt to save Grady from a gigantic elk. *SEE PHOTO......do I lie?* Then his friend came over. They hung out until it was time to leave for the movie I had promised to take them to that afternoon. We stopped at Walgreen's as in a cost-cutting move, I have started smuggling their candy and drinks into the theatre. Hey, I'm still buying tickets. And popcorn. I'm not completely bucking the system. I'm just walking into a theatre with a gigantic Coach purse that looks like there's a bobcat about to bust out of it at any given second. No biggie. So, we settle into our seats. Eat some corn. Can't take the contraband snacks out until it's dark. I find myself getting sized up by the very obviously single dad's who are trying to entertain the kids they have for the weekend. Kinda like me. Except I'm not single. I should really look into this wedding ring thing so that I can avoid getting the raised eyebrow from imabigfatbalddivorcee.com Ewww. Bottom line, the movie, Megamind, sucked. Jack said, "Wow. That was a big waste of Will Ferrell's talent". Aptly put, Gene Shallot. BUT, it blew some time. We go home. His friend wants to stay. That's cool. But nobody wants to play with me. My friends were either out of town or going on dates with their stupid husbands. Smug marrieds. The kids are downstairs. I offer to make them a nacho bar. That's how bored I was. They come to the kitchen, get their delicious nachos and go downstairs. And start jamming music. Oh, and playing Twister.  At this point I realized how truly pathetic my life had become. Well, my Saturday but "life" sounds more dramatic. I wanted to play Twister with MY friends. At this point it's like 7:30. I decide that in a show of protest and self-pity, I will put on my flannel pajamas, get a blanket and sit on the couch. With a Diet Coke. I refused to participate in the nacho bar. It was kind of a hunger strike move. Like the kids cared. So I'm on the couch, watching Sex and the City. The movie. I had sworn I would never watch that simply on the principle that it's retarded. But it made for a good visual. Me, on the couch, in the flannels, with the blanket. Watching Sex and the City. All that was missing was the pint of Haagen Daz. Reference aforementioned hunger strike. It was like I was sick but I wasn't. Sick of that freakin' Saturday, alright. Suffice to say, Dave got home just in time for the Lion's game on Sunday and there was much rejoicing. Being a single parent is not for the faint of heart. Or the easily bored, spoiled girl who is used to having people around to entertain her and do her bidding. Dude. I had to rub my own bunions. And that's just not cool.  So happy weekend, everybody! Mine is looking up. 

Spinach Potato Soup

I think because I was such a slacker for several months with Deep Thoughts, you guys all missed my "Formerly Fabulous Thrift Initiative" in which no food is left behind. It's kind of a game. And I have all sorts of awesome food in the freezer. I'm working on another blog that focuses on that crap specifically. In the meantime, I'll drop my little culinary bombs on you here at Deep Thoughts HQ. "I dropped a bomb on you......baby......". I was just in my pantry and what to my wandering......I mean wondering........eye did appear but a shit-load of potatoes that were about to turn the corner!!!! So I put on my Formerly Fabulous Thinking Cap (the cap is still fabulous.........I have my standards.......) and came up with THIS: I'm gonna peel those terrible tubers and make two things: Spinach Potato Soup and Potato and Cheese Enchiladas. Because I have a freaking crazy day (fucking charity work.......fucking Pilates.......fucking Christmas.......) I will post the recipe for the soup now and hopefully can sit my ass down and crank out the enchilada recipe for ya this afternoon. As an interesting aside, "This recipe is one that the US Department of Agriculture used to distribute to potato growers in the 1930's. It is rich and thick, almost a meal in itself and is very easy to make". Dude. That's old-timey. 

Spinach Potato Soup 

(serves four......I usually double this recipe 'cause it's doubly delicious)

1/2 cup fresh onion (as opposed to an onion that's been festering in the sun)

2 T butter

2 c water

1 t salt

2 c potatoes (about 1 lb raw potatoes......yo' Idaho.....)

2 c cooked chopped spinach, fresh or frozen

13 oz can of evaporated milk

1 T Worcestershire sauce

1/2 lb grated cheese (cheddar or Swiss......or a both......)

In  a 3-quart saucepan, sautee the (fresh!) onion in the butter until the onion is translucent (about three minutes). Add water, potatoes, spinach and salt. Cook until potatoes are tender (about 20 minutes). Add milk and Worcestershire sauce. Reheat to near boiling but do not boil. *at this point I usually take a "boat-motor" and puree the soup so that the potatoes are not in chunks, but do what ya like* Stir in cheese and serve! 

So there you go. I've got butt-loads of soup recipes. Perhaps I'll start a little something we could call "Soupy Sunday's". Although depending on your Saturday evening that could have a different connotation. Which is why I need a separate blog for the food stuff. Sometimes the Deep Thoughts are not conducive to a hearty appetite. Oh well. 

Help!

Hey Guys! Just wanted to take a sec before I head out on my day of madness to say a big "THANKS". Since the blog has been back, I've received SO many nice emails, comments, etc. That shit really does warm the cockles of my stony little heart. And it makes me want to keep doing this. When I first started this thing, I figured I'd just be doing it for myself and a few friends who inexplicably find my trials and tribs amusing. So it's been a really big surprise to find that other people kinda like it too. This blogging thing is all about numbers. Big numbers bring you advertisers. And if I have advertisers, I can blog my little heart out. Actually get this to the next level. Videos! Recipes! My friends doing wacky things! So what I need from you, my friends, is to take a sec and "share" any Deep Thoughts you may enjoy on your facebook page. Or just tell your friends. Any help I can get would be appreciated tremendously. And if you don't like them, you can print them up and wipe your bum with them. It's a free country. And it's better than a corn cob. Trust me. 

Oh Christmas Tree

If you are of the Christian persuasion, it's pretty likely that if you have NOT decorated a Christmas tree yet this year, you will be doing so very soon. Even if you're not of the Christian persuasion, you may be decorating a Hannukah bush. Or a Kwanza stick or a Festivus pole. 'Tis the season to decorate shit, with varying degrees of success. And varying degrees of enthusiasm, depending on what stage of life you're at. I remember my first tree. It was pretty sparse in the ornament department. So much so that a friend who shall remain nameless (MR. DOG) remarked upon that fact. Well, that laid down the gauntlet and resulted in years of furious ornament acquisition. Subsequently, the tree got fuller. And fuller. So we got another tree. And another tree. And little mini trees. These trees eventually developed themes. With names like "Fruity Woodland Splendor". I shit you not. Fruity Fucking Woodland Splendor. There was a tree covered with silk magnolias, white doves and a gilded bird cage as a tree topper. That one didn't have a name but if it did it would be something like "This Woman is Bat Shit Crazy". So this crap goes on until Jack was crawling and sticking anything that was not nailed down into his mouth and knocking shit over. That's when the "good" ornaments started moving up the tree. As any good tree trimmer knows, it's all about balance. So the tree(s) starts losing a bit of luster. But then the kid gets older and order is restored. There are a few good tree years there. Until the kids start getting interested in "helping". Oh God. This is a REALLY sticky wicket because tree trimming is supposed to be a warm, family activity of Rockwellian proportions. It's not supposed to be about showmanship, right? Wrong. Jack "helped" this year as he has since he was able. This helping involves putting the ornaments that I always consider "back of the tree" front and center. And grouping things together. Like ALL of the state of Michigan sports related ornaments together. And everything he ever made at school together. So you've got Detroit Lions and Red Wings ornaments in one group and balls of yarn in the next. Again, in the front of the tree. Thus begins the stealth operation I've begun to think of as "The Dance". The Dance often involves the art of distraction. "Oh look! There's a bat in the house!" Move an ornament. "Oh look! A naked lady!" Move an ornament. Because it is very, very important that the kid does not realize that you have moved an ornament. I'm not sure why, but so far Jack is not on to me. Eleven-year old boys are not all that detail oriented it seems. Once it's up and on the tree, it's out of his mind. Thank God. I'm still fighting the good fight. Sorta. I am down to one tree. This may be an indication that I am reaching the next stage in which you start relinquishing control. My friend Bethany posted a picture on Facebook of her family tree. In a bold move, she let her husband and kids do the trimming. She even left the house. The result was actually rather charming. Colored lights on top, white lights on the bottom and most of the ornaments clustered around the middle. And in groups. She posted a picture of a few angels together. She said her kids probably thought the angels were too insecure to hang out by themselves. Maybe next year I myself will be secure enough to let Jack and Dave take the wheel. But of course, there will come a time that Jack has no interest whatsoever in the tree. He'll be too busy being a belligerent teen to give a crap about ornament placement. And then I'll have my tree back. Can you say "Wintery Pheasant Phantasy"?  Of course you can.

Donkey Show Part Deux

Okay, so the donkey sale continues. I don't think they've had any takers. Which is surprising as for $95, why WOULDN'T you buy a donkey???? It has been suggested that I could stick some antler's on their heads and have them mill about as reindeer during the month of December. Then I came up with the super-great idea of staging a LIVE NATIVITY SCENE in my front yard. I initially thought that I would play the Virgin Mary. But then I was struck by lightning and thought better of it.  But surely I could find some hapless spinster to stand there and hold Jack, who will be very convincing as the baby Jesus. All 105 lbs of him. His initials ARE JC after all. And Christmas Eve IS his "half-birthday". He thinks he's got one up on us because he's convinced us that people get "half-birthday" presents. The joke is actually on him as it's CHRISTMAS, dummy.......you'd get to open a present on Christmas Eve ANYWAY. Nothing like pullin' one over on your kid. PSYCH!!!!! But back to the donkey thing. If I can't pull off the live nativity scene (complete with beer sales to the passing parade of cars........gotta turn a profit......if that's illegal we can sell burritos) I have some other ideas. Our country club could buy the whole damn donkey herd and use them as caddies. We'd be known as "that club with the donkey's". Which would be pretty sweet. Barring that, I believe I will simply purchase a donkey and ride him naked through the streets Morrison. That'll get 'em talking! Oh wait. Nevermind.