Christmas. The joyous Holiday Season. Oh how I love to loathe you, in many ways. Look, let’s be honest for a second. Christmas is lovely because families gather and memories are made and I love all that. I really do. I get nostalgic for fires and egg nog and the scent of pine. I love decorating my tree with pretty ornaments and rediscovering all the Christmas things my kids have made over the years. But I could certainly love it more without all the fluff and commercialism. I’m such a logical person. Nothing inside of me feels good about wasting money on toys for children who already have so much. I constantly think about the children starving everywhere as I stand in the aisle at Toys R Us with a monumental list in hand. Yes, I do give money to needy children…but it’s all backwards, this world. We give the most to the people who need it the least, and we give the least to people who need it the most. It makes me hate Christmas and hate myself for participating in it. I have stopped giving to adults. And I don’t feel guilty. I use that money to give more to the needy. I can’t stop giving to the kids though. They don’t get it quite yet…although I’m working on them, little by little.
So, in preparation for the disgustingness of what seems more like ‘the toy season’ than ‘the birth of CHRIST’, I spent ten hours yesterday cleaning out my little kids’ closet. TEN HOURS. I swear to you, If anyone buys them a Lego set for Christmas, I’m going to retaliate by dumping legos all over your lawn. Believe me when I say I have enough to fuck you up.
I swear, I hate toys! I hate Legos, because what is the point, really? We spend hours putting this crap together, and then less than 24 hours later, they're scattered from one end of my house to the other. $49 for an hour of play? Really? Is that a good deal?
I hate stuffed animals too. You hear that people? Don’t buy my kids stuffed animals. Stuffed animals are a ridiculous waste of money because we hide them then throw them away, right? Around here, they end up in the Mardi Gras bin to be thrown in parades. So think about that when you are buying more puppies and bears for little darling. If you want to take a chance on catching it next year in the Muses parade, then go for it.
I hate transformers too. Another toy that is good for about three minutes. They watch eagerly as I carefully follow directions to transform the monster into a truck. I would rather chew my arm off on Christmas Day. As soon as it’s a truck, they anxiously ask me to make it back into a monster. And I smile and say, “Ok honey, I’ll do it in a minute,” and then I never do it. Ever. For years, I never do it. And I’m not ever going to. Because I facking hate transformers. Seriously, who puts the suggestions for age appropriateness on these things? Instead of ‘ages 6 – 8’ it should say something like this.
Recommended for:
Rocket scientists who have never thrown objects out of anger
Children who are taking the ACT this year
Women who washed down their meds with a vodka tonic
Other warnings:
Not to be used in the week prior to menstruation
Do not attempt to transform product unless under the influence of alcohol
