OK, so who’s itching to buy me presents? Anyone? I have a wish list over on amazon, if you’re interested.

Anyone? Hello? Somebody?



Yeah, me too
Hey I love the holidays, but the presents? Not so much. See, here’s how I figure it: If I buy you a present, and you buy me a present, then we both spent money but didn’t get what we wanted. Wow that sorta sucks, huh? I’d much rather have spent money and gotten what I wanted to get. Which is actually why I created my wish list; not for others, but for me! I keep things there as my list of things to get myself, a reminder of the particular things I want.

But hey, if you feel really inclined, go ahead and buy me things off my list until you’re just silly. Just don’t expect much in return. Bah-humbug. (btw, “bah-humbug” is perfectly acceptable according to spell-check. Who’d have thunk, huh?)

But honestly, it just seems like too much importance is put on the gifts. Look, if you're over 18, don't expect presents, that's the way it should be. If you're an adult, you can get a job and work for the things you want. If someone happens to get you a small something? Well fine, but if you are expecting things, you suck. Because you're ruining X-mas, dammit! And my bottom line!

This is why I think Thanksgiving is my favorite Holiday. No gifts, no pressure, no nothing but a moist, juicy turkey or savory, honey-baked ham. Unless you're at my mother's house. Where it's either dry turkey or undercooked ham. Love you, mom!


And the Winner is… CHILD!
So you know the answer, but you’re probably wondering the contestants, right? Well, this particular case was a race/battle between parent & child. Yesterday at work, there was this middle-aged, dim-witted woman with a child who I guess was about 4-5 years old. I found them on the toy aisle as I was heading to the back, and as I walked down the aisle towards them, I see the child make a mess all over the floor, pulling out toys off the wall.

I made sure to walk by and make my presence known, sort of a silent “Hey I saw that, uh, maybe you should police your child and pick up this mess?”

But being the Manager on Duty, I couldn’t stand and watch them as calls come frequent, and soon I was off to help in the Photo Department. I got stuck over there for longer than I had wanted to be, and after a while I hear a loud screech, followed by the pitter-patter of little feet scurrying past me at double-time, running across the front of the store, then down the back aisle towards the back of the store. This was followed in short order by the clump-clump of a dim-witted spectacle of a mom trying to catch a runaway child. Ho-Hum, I think to myself, hopefully they’re leaving after this is over.

I was right on that count, it was just a matter of it actually getting to over. Because not 40 seconds later, the same screech, the same pitter-patter, the same hellion running across the front, down the stretch, and around the back. Followed again by the clump-clump of the dim-witted. Yeah, this is getting old already as you can imagine.

I finally break away from the Photo Department to take care of a refund elsewhere. On my way across the store, I come across the dim-witted mother (I’m going to call her that every time), and she asks me if I can tell her child – who’s now laying in the middle of the candy aisle, 20 feet from her mom – that she can’t have the ball she’s clutching. Sure thing. Can I teach her some manners, too? Maybe balance your budget? Go to her next recital? WTF?! Isn’t that your job!? *sigh.* Fine.

So I get up to the child slowly – think Crocodile Hunter sneaking up on a large lizard – and explain that she can’t have the ball. She tells me it’s only a couple bucks and she wants it for her birthday. I distract her with talk and grab the ball, then her hand, then walk her to her mom while she’s concentrating on what I’m saying (“you’re a pox on humanity! Yes you are! Yes you are! Oh, you’re so cute! You little pox on humanity, you…”).

I don’t need kids, I’m raising enough of them at work.



“Insert Typical Follow-up Question Here”
That question being “Where’s the parents?” Unfortunately, mom was right there with her child. That was running laps around my store and screaming. Right. There. In. The. Store.

I told the relieving manager about the incident, to which she replied that if her granddaughter ever tried to pull something like that, she’d beat the tar out of her.

“Yeah, but your granddaughter would never do that. Because she probably knows that you’d beat the tar out of her.” Which was the problem. In the horse race above, between the 35 year-old and the 4 year-old, the 4 y/o should not have the power. But that’s how it was. She had no fear of her creator; She was the jockey in that relationship.

And just that fast, corporal punishment in schools looks very appealing. We shouldn’t let kids bring guns to school, we need to let the teachers & administrators bring them instead.

Oh and the toys all over the floor? Still there after they left. Sweet.



Patriots almost lose
Hopefully last night’s close call is as close as it gets this season. Because one loss is not history. Horseshoes & hand grenades, right?

Peace.

Tags: Entertainment