I’ve reached the dreaded “fourth stage” of Santa.
Stage 1: You believe in Santa
Stage 2: You don’t believe in Santa
Stage 3: You are Santa
Stage 4: You look like Santa
It’s strange having to wake up the teenage kids to open presents.
Next year I’m asking for wire snips and bolt cutters to help me open packages. Those military grade zip ties seem a little excessive to protect a two-pack of wooden spoons, but what do I know.
As consumers we should demand uniform sizing protocols. I got three large shirts. The first was too small for a hobbit; the second was so slim I looked like a sausage; the third would have been big on an NFL lineman. I kept the third one because at the rate I’m eating Christmas cookies I’m pretty sure I will grow into it.
At Christmas, stockings are always full of the candy that stores couldn’t sell at Halloween.
I really got into the Christmas spirit this year – mostly Crown Royal.
I ran into my Dad at the store on Christmas Eve. I asked if he was starting his Christmas shopping. He said “soon.” Lol
Diehard is a Christmas movie.
A friend asked her son why we celebrate Christmas. He said, “It’s the birth of Santa.”
Credit cards: paying for this year’s presents with next year’s money.
My favorite gift -the eggnog moose mug from Christmas Vacation.
Word to the Wise: only compliment someone on their ugly Christmas sweater if you are absolutely certain that are purposely wearing an ugly Christmas sweater. Oops!
Talk to you next year!