Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Dear Santa Don't GO!

As a child, I was completely in love with all things Christmas.  I lived for the excitement and quite literally quivered in anticipation of Santa's yearly visit.  Santa never let me down, but I never really had many expectations.  I loved every present, no matter what it was, with the exception, perhaps, of the heinous granny panties my parents think are amusing to include in my stocking.  They heehaw over it every, single, stinking year.  Apparently, it's a competition to see which one of them can find the ugliest pair.   If you're a granny in need of some cotton gusset, neon green, leopard print, high enough to touch your boob undies - inbox me.  They're new in package and completely free.  I'll even throw in last year's red velvet and with white fur trim, naughty Mrs. Claus thong as a bonus. (Whoever thought fur hanging off the edge of a thong was sexy may want to rethink that idea.)  Hey, I may not be hip and with it, but I do have standards, People.  Standards.

Anyway.

With the highs come the lows.  After every wonderful, glorious, memory making Christmas, I would bawl my eyes out the next day, when the tree came down, because I didn't want the magic to be over.  

And Miss Chatterbox is exactly like me.  

Christmas morning (aka the 23rd, since The Firefighter had to work both the 24th and 25th), Miss Chatterbox couldn't have been cuter.  She just stood in front of the tree saying, "For Me?  Presents, for me?  Thank you, Santa, so much!  I wuv it!"  It is so completely gratifying to give her gifts because she is so joyful and excited about everything.  I adore that girl!  She made Christmas so much fun!

But, yesterday, we took down the tree and decorations and I thought Miss Chatterbox was going to come unglued!  She just cried and cried and begged us to let her decorate the tree again.  I sat her down and explained that the tree would come out again next year, but it had to come down because her birthday is next week and we need to decorate for that.  While The Firefighter, quickly hustled the decoration boxes out of the house, I asked her what she would like on her birthday cake.  

Her first answer?  "Santa."  Sigh.  She is nothing if not single minded and determined.  

I try again.

"What about Barney?"
"No, Mommy, want big girl panties."
 Slightly pregnant pause
"On your cake?"
"Yeah!" she says, giggling maniacally.

I momentarily panic as I realize that public exhibition is exactly two steps and 15 years away from 6 inch lucite heels, velvet thongs and stripper poles.  Ugh.  Not my daughter.

In desperation, I suggest my most hated, would rather poke my eye out then watch, arch nemesis and public enemy #1.

"What about Dora?"
"Dora?!  Okay, Mommy!  Can it have fireworks and blow up?"

Sigh.  The things we do for our kids.  

I hope each and everyone one of you had as wonderful and magical  a Christmas as we did.  And that didn't include granny panties or strippers.  Unless, you wanted granny panties and strippers.  In that case, I hope you got them.  







3 comments:

  1. Kitty says I have my own granny panties, and not to harass you for yours. Enjoy! LOL!

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  2. "No, Mommy, want big girl panties."
    Slightly pregnant pause
    "On your cake?"

    ...looks like you've found a buyer for all the unwanted presents you've gotten over the years!

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  3. Lily keeps asking, "Is Christmas over?" She can't understand that it will all come back next year. She keeps watching me put away all the decorations and is sad. She keeps saying, "No more presents?"

    I was so sad the next day as well. I had a little Christmas blues going on. Glad I am not alone.

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