Sunday, December 17, 2006

The Jeremy Crow Christmas Countdown 2006 #9


As far as I was concerned I thought last Christmas was going to be the capper of the whole “Jeremy” experiment that God has been working on for the last 36 years. It was the usual with a few new add-ons thrown in to keep it real and to keep me on my toes, I know, but I am starting to run out of patience for the whole thing really. So far this year is starting to bring me to the brink of exhaustion as Christmas always does, I’ve done all my shopping early aside from a few odds and ends that I buttoned up yesterday while my aunt rescued me from the evil bastards that I hadn’t been able to shake aside from work for over 2 weeks. I have been losing my mind trying to get enough work done so that I can take off the week between Christmas and New Years so that hasn’t helped my exhaustion level either, but it all looks like a go and I was so looking forward to today {Saturday} so that I could just rest and try to heal my sick little tired body. YEAH RIGHT!

Six am and it is CHRISTMAS CHRISTMAS CHRISTMAS! “Get up daddy, we have to do the tree” and “Get up daddy, you have to do the yard” and that was before the really old one started bossing me around. Welcome to Christmas at the Casa Di Evils’s where everyone has an opinion and I am the one who get’s stuck with it. It wasn’t bad enough that I had to put together that stupid Christmas tree while taking orders from Greektradgedius Inyiddish the whole time {Mental Note for anyone reading this .. Send your grandmother to the nursing home, don’t move her in with you .. Relatives make horrible house guests} and upon finishing that it was non-stop whining about how she wanted the lawn to look. It’s freaking December in Nooo Hampshah, so the yard is going to look DEAD no matter what you do to it! The reason for making the yard look so stunning, of course is the horrifically tacky, white metal, illuminated and animated set of reindeer that I have to untangle for yet another year and try to set up in frozen ground. Of course I could say no to all of this but it would be taken out of my emotional stability well past Christmas, and as always I am the idiot who thinks these things end when I just do it. I’ll never learn.

My parole came when Greektradgedius Intraining {aka my aunt} showed up to critique all of the back breaking, aggravating work that I had been doing, and of course notice every minute and equally pain in the ass detail that I could work on next. This sat beautifully with me as she convinced Greektradgedius Inyiddish that I should forgo any of the resting that I had hoped to do in lieu of trimming the hedges and redoing the rock garden, in the middle of DECEMBER!! Upon finishing that she had decided that it was best for me to make gingerbread so that the evils’s could make gingerbread houses to which I’m pretty sure I said some things that the evils’s will most likely repeat in school {tell them to do their chores or stop breaking my shit, and I am guaranteed that they can’t hear a word I say, but utter the F word a mere … um … 30 or so times, and they will remember THAT one for a month!} they decided it was probably best that they do that at her house. Finally a good idea in all of this crap, until Greektradgedius Inyiddish decided that I should go fire up the Minivan to drive them all over there. Another round of colorful metaphors that mean “To Lay Down” in Saxony Speak, and they were all leaving without me, but at a cost, as Greektradgedius Inyiddish hands me her list of shopping she forgot to do.

Now the subject of the thesis is “Shopping as a Contact Sport” because the places that I had to go in the local Wal-Mart are where all the really really stupid people hang out 9 days before Christmas. The amazingly stupid people will be occupying these locations later in the next week, as they realize that they don’t have all of the things that are necessary before Christmas. Those stupid candle lights that tacky up any home, but of course she lost the ones from last year and of course the wrapping paper. Heaven forbid that we save any of the “too fucking much” we had last year, when you have a “guilted into” servant to go fight it out with the people who have nothing better to do than be in Wal-Mart right now. It’s not an easy sell being alone in a Wal-Mart for me because children {like cats} find me like crazy knowing full well that I can barely tolerate my own. They can smell it on me like fear from a leopard I tell ya! This day was to be no different as I realized that I had a pack rat following me around the store, which was a new one for me actually because throughout the evolution of becoming a children magnet I had never had one that walked behind me snatching things out of my basket before. After about 10 minutes of this I found myself rather concerned because where the hell was this little boy’s parent?

I had finally gotten everything I needed in that area and said goodbye to my little packrat that had been following me around and started walking towards the audio video section {hey I deserve a toy for being here after all} and my little friend started following me that direction. Despite my encouraging the little boy to find his momma, then his daddy, then trying everything I could think of I then decided it was time to start walking around randomly asking people if they knew who’s little boy this was, and to no avail. What the hell is wrong with this kid’s parent? I was kind of curious of who this person was now because I have been trying to pawn my kids off on others for years now and they always find me again when they get hungry! The boy doesn’t speak at all and he just points at things and grabs things, and of course the almighty question of “Why Me???”

The only thing left to do is to walk towards customer service and hope the kid follows me there as well. Nope, the second I tried to walk past the toys on the way to customer service the little boy starts taking off down the toy isles, and here I am feeling responsible for the kid, oh God kill me! He stops at the Transformers {a kid after my own heart now!} and points at one of the really cheap ones “Dat!” he says as he points at it, and as I am standing there shaking my head he grabs it and puts it in my basket. I can’t believe this now because apparently I am the toy and food dispenser to the world now, but I figure if I leave the toy in the basket he might follow me the rest of the way to customer service, which is still past 8 more isles of toys, and I am still a bit queezy about making it past the pet section without having him grab a goldfish. It’s working though as he continues to follow me to customer service which is a plus.

Well the boy’s name was Zachary {cool name by the way} as it was what his mother was screeching when we walked into the Lay A Way area that is “Customer Service” during the holidays. Course I did have to question whether anyone was looking for him over the last 20 minutes as he had toured the entire store with me, but I took the Transformer out of my basket and offered to buy it for him {a deal’s a deal after all} to which his mother was more than happy to buy for him, even though despite it being in her possession now he wanted to follow me around still. “Look buddy, you have to hang out with your momma now, I have to get home to my own kidlets,” which he seemed to comprehend. It would have been rather cute had I not hated kids as much as I do, but now it is off to buy myself that toy that I wanted from the audio video section. Well ok I ended up buying a Zune for Lazius Boycrazius for Christmas, but it was the thought that counts ;8o)