Friday, February 15, 2008

I have a love hate relationship with Santa.

Santa hates me.

I love Santa, but curse his/her name on a daily basis.

Each year Santa gives one of my girls a present that I would never allow into my home. 2 years ago it was the dreaded Barbie guitar. Loudest, most annoyingester, did I mention annoying? toy ever created. I'm fairly sure Satan was involved. Julia wanted it with the force of a 1,000 suns, and damn it if Santa didn't bring it for her.

Santa's a sucker. Santa hates me.

Last year, Santa brought Julia what I was sure to be the death present, a Razor Scooter. Julia is, how shall we put this delicately... ummmm... not exactly graceful. Santa, being the smart mofo that he/she is also brought a new helmet, knee pads, elbow pads, wrist pads... to protect from death.Santa earned a reprieve with that one, since so far (knock, knock) no broken bones.

This year, Santa outdid him/herself. I'm pretty sure I did something terrible, horrible, no good, very bad thing to deserve the gifts my children received this year. Books... that's nice, right. No biggie. Emma got a little baby doll. It doesn't talk. It's nice. Anna asked for a "practically real" doll, which Santa (the dumbass mo fo that he/she is) promptly believed to mean the Little Mommy So Real doll. But Santa was sorely mistaken.Anna is known as the most grateful little girl in the world. Case in point: She was opening her presents and took the wrapping paper off of one box. Meemaw said to her, "Oh look Anna, you got a box" Anna said something to the effect of, "oh yeah, I love it so much" and bless her little heart she meant it. So, when Santa screwed up the "practically real" doll she happily accepted the subpar, incredibly inferior subsititute with a smile and graciousness. It wasn't until bedtime when I asked her if she had a wonderful Christmas, she said in her sweet sleepy little voice, "Yes, I love my toys, even if I didn't get the one thing my little three year old heart was praying for with every ounce of my being, but yeah, it was great" Ok, so maybe she didn't exactly say that, but it was close. She was soooo grateful and sweet. That's when I swore that Santa was a fool, and that Target was happy to exchange Baby Almost What I Wanted with the Baby That Makes So GD Much Noise And Is Incredibly Creepy Looking But Makes My Heart Happy And Costs $30 More doll.So. That could be then end of the story, but the title suggests there was something to do with a bird.The bird. Ugh. The damn bird.Squakers Annoying Never Stop Talking Like EVER bird. Julia of course is the one begging Santa for a bird that talks and did I mention it doesn't ever stop talking.So, it's February, this bird is still around and hasn't been banished to the closet yet. I wish I could, but everyone loves this bird. He talks all the time. He sings a squaky rendition of "Hot Hot Hot", he kisses, he clickingly moves his head and eyes. He is how I know Santa hates me. For reals...

1 comment:

Suzanne said...

Glad to know that I'm not the only one that Santa hates. We have many of those evil spawn of satan toys around here. After the kids go to bed, I HIDE them! Yes, I hide them! But it gives me a few hours each day reprieve while they search for them!