Friday, December 11, 2009

Go Elf Yourself—A Christmas Story

Tis the season for overcrowded shopping malls, fighting over toys that your kids wont even appreciate at Toys R Us and it’s over the river and through the hood to Nana’s house you go. That’s right ho-ho-ho’s, it’s Chrismahanukwanzakah time!

If you were in yearly Christmas pageant at your local church like I was growing up, then you know that Jesus is the reason for the season (oh yes He is y’all). Cynical, sarcastic and rude as all hell though I may be, I don’t question my faith. However, this isn’t about what I do and don’t believe in. Nope. This is where I get to make gross speculations and/or wild accusations about who and whatever tickles my fancy as the—Chrismahanukwanzakah—spirit guides my fingers over the keys.

I love Christmas; it’s one of my favorite times of the year. I get to see relatives I don’t normally get to see and I’m reminded of how thankful I am for that by my second glass of non-alcoholic eggnog. There’s the yearly appearance of the  dreaded photo-album and the reliving of 90’s fashion along with the realization that my mother really didn’t love me as a child based on the colors and patterns that were mixed together in the name of an outfit. There’s also the fam sitting around the fireplace with mugs of hot coco actually acting civil towards each other. Where am I? The (Infamous) One is sitting across the room throwin’ pointed side-eye’s, all out glares and straight unadulterated evil vibes from my place on the heating grate because I’m convinced these busters secretly want me to freeze.

Speaking of me freezing…

I need to get the hell outta Michigan before I turn into a lemon caramel Rencicle.

Just this morning when I went to go shovel, the temperature was 14 here in Lansing but with the wind-chill it felt like –2.

I put on two pairs of socks, leggings, pajama pants and my jeans, a long sleeved t-shirt, an oversized hoody and my heavy leather coat. Still not sure why, but I thought that that would be sufficient protection from the Michigan cold, but as soon as I stepped off the porch, the boogers in my nose—yes, the boogers bxtches, I have them too, but unlike you, I don’t pick and eat mine—turned to small blocks of ice. Please believe I’m not shxttin’ y’all right now when I say that I coughed and created a cloud that hung in midair for 3.667 seconds before it fell to the ground and shattered.

I shoveled that and what remained of the snow in my driveway up and turned back to my house to find my neighbor on my porch stealing my salt.

I silently watched him scuttle back over to his property to finish his sidewalk with the pilfered rock salt. Walking up the steps, I opened the door to Chez Ren and grabbed my liter of Aquafina then proceeded to go outside and dump the contents of the 33.8 FL. OZ bottle of H2O on the four doors of his Taurus. I went back in the house to wait for his doors to freeze.

Watching him stand in the cold as he tried to open his doors while I sipped on hot coco from the comfort of my couch was a nice early Christmas present if I do say so myself.

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