Christmas is an investment..seriously. An investment that is torn down the day after Christmas. The gifts we wrap so beautifully...are torn to shreds within seconds. Everything is so drawn out, that I want to slap someone everytime I hear Christmas Music. OMG, I can't stand Christmas music. And there is a certain horrible song that will make me punch a baby if I hear it...something about forgetting cranberry sauce, some stupid shit like that. Who gives a krap if you forgot cranberry sauce? I don't, stop freaking singing about it and get your ass to Krauzer's!!!
But I fall for it..every single year I'm at the Bitch's mercy, whipping out my BOA card buying love from my family. Will the gift this year prevent my mom from asking me how I spend my finances?
Not a snowball's chance in hell my friend.
I do love to see my children get excited for the Holidays. But man, why do we put our chldren on some stranger's lap? Especially when we tell them to NOT talk to strangers? I remember as a five year old, how life sized characters at theme parks would scare the SHIT out of me. So here I am, freaking my kids out for the sake of the Holiday. My son is two, he is TERRIFIED of Santa. But here I am trying to pry him from my arms to get that freaking precious photo.
There is not enough wine in the world for hanging with my family during the holidays. Maybe I build it up in my head, that things aren't THAT stressful. Oh but they are!!! They mean well, they really are good people. But in the first 15 minutes that I arrive with my immediate family in tow, I am told I put on weight, that my kids are not friendly...AND I make a beeline for the Moscato.
But I do wonder, when my family and friends encourage me to drink at functions...am I that good at being drunk? Or am I that BAD? Oh, and why must we document my tipsy moments? Sure, I like to sing bad songs on a guitar that I have no business playing (Smelly Cat Style), but please don't document for prosperity.
Sincerely Your Ho Ho Ho,
G
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