Admittedly I am always a real Grinch at Christmas time. I tire from decades of the same carols. Gingerbread tastes like baked turds. I am terrified that at the right moment a fellow shopper’s loose hold on sanity will break and I will be laid to waste because I wanted a coffee mug gift set for mom. I mean, I can’t die yet, I want to get old, pretend to be senile, and torture my family.
This season has been neither bad nor good. I must say I am feeling more of that “Christmas spirit” than before. I actually managed to think of one thing I like about Christmas more than simply glittery ornaments (they are SO pretty!!!).
Santa Claus, is what makes Christmas a super deluxe, freaking break your face, bad ass, holiday. Why? Santa is an awesome behavioral modification method that sadly can only be used for a limited amount of time.
Right now my son is buying this Santa stuff. Some kid who talks through his nose and scratches his butt all the time has not come along to break the dreadful news to him as of yet. Therefore the omnipotent fat ass can see him at all times and knows when he is doing wrong. Santa is sitting around, emotionally abusing elves right now, waiting for my son to fuck up so he can’t have the Lego Deathstar.
I happen to have big red on speed dial. I have since July. When there is a quandary that cannot be settled with simple logic, bribery, pleading, my own crying….Santa is now up to date, he has Verizon, we got mobile to mobile minutes. I mean what kid is going to flex on that?
I distinctly remember being told the same thing as a kid, and I also remember changing my attitude, immediately. That is, until I went to my friend’s house to play The Simpsons video game on Nintendo…and my world was blown apart to fragments of lies and sugar plums dancing, only now to taunt me. I felt somewhat empowered afterwards daring to defy mother without the burden of Santa’s disapproval. I am pretty sure mom started using my Full House viewing privileges as leverage after that…
Either way, Santa’s presence and the imminent threat of his ability to render a bad child without a gift is amazing. Now, for those of you who feel I am wrong…I don’t claim to have written a parenting book. I don’t let my kid anywhere near my neighbor’s meth lab (that is a joke). It could be worse, I don’t tell him about the Krampus , though it’s not altogether a bad idea…
None the less, for the rest of you that enjoy the celebration, and the fun family time; Happiest of Holidays, eat, drink, make inappropriate advances on your cousin!!!