Tuesday, January 06, 2009

Christmas Break Wrap-up

The Aldis have hit a new low. Believe it.

I didn't think there was anything lower than giving a kid a shitty gift, but there is. It's giving a kid a really awesome gift that doesn't work. They got the boys cool AirHog helicopters and threw in, as a bonus, these cool-looking guns that shoot nerfball-like things.

At least, that's what they're supposed to do. They don't do shit but collect dust. They don't WORK. The boys were so bummed, it was sad. Who wants to see a sad kid on Christmas?

The Aldis included batteries, which was surprisingly generous. So when we got home (of course I couldn't let the boys open them at Chez Inlaw because they'd shoot them all over and I'd be the worst parent in the world) we put them in, and couldn't get either gun to work. R thought perhaps we should get some NEW batteries, as we wouldn't put it past the Aldis to include some mostly-dead batteries that they'd taken out of one of their kids' toys. New batteries didn't work either.

R did a quick internet search, and found these items on Super Duper Clearance at Target.com. We kicked ourselves for not opening them at Chez Inlaw so the Aldis could be exposed as the crappy giftgivers they are.

There were a couple other memorable holiday moments at Chez Inlaw. At one point, Beebie and Aldigirl were talking about birthstones, and Beebie mentioned that she had a set of genuine birthstone earrings, including a pair that is genuine diamond.

"Are they real?" Aldigirl asked.

"That's what genuine means, Aldigirl," Beeb replied. I was tickled.

And then, later, as we were all posing for the annual Inlaw/Karma/Aldi/Lexus family photo (which, we've been taking for years but none of us has ever seen any of them printed), FIL was having a little trouble with the self-timer thing, and I don't know what prompted it, but Mrs. Lexus said something about how photography has really only been around since around the Civil War.

And the mighty Reverend Aldi claimed that it's been around since ancient Egypt or something. Mrs. Lexus, along with the rest of us, thought he was full of shit. I don't know what she said to him, but his defense was,

"Well, it depends on what your definition of pho-TAAAAH-graphy..."

Because everything depends on your definition of everything.
Dude, JUST. SHUT. UP. Nobody CARES.

Santa brought the Karmas some gifts worth mentioning. The boys each got MP3 players which they absolutely loved. Beeb got Disney SingIt! for the Wii. R got an Xbox 360. And I (er, the kids) got RockBand to play on it. But the greatest gift of all? R got me the Classy flask! I tried to take pictures and they didn't come out, but trust me, it's exactly what I wanted.

My parents came up on the 28th. Here are some highlights of their visit:

A) We went bowling to celebrate Tito's birthday on the 29th.

Oh, I should mention that Saturday is Tito's birthday party. The child's turning six, and he's never had an actual birthday party. It's not entirely because I'm a lazyass, but that's definitely a tertiary factor. So this year I invited all of the boys in Tito's class. Including Lubaba's brother.

I was tempted to specify on the invitation "To Johnathon - NOT Lubaba's party-moochin' ass", but I thought it might be just as much fun and slightly less snarkilicious to just sit back and see if they try to smuggle Lubaba into the party too. You KNOW I'll let you know if those dimwit parents who have no clue about basic birthday party etiquette pull any fucking horseshit like that.


B) After-Christmas Shopping yielded me some righteous pink boots.



And four bags of these, so I don't have to wait for Easter to get my Cadbury chocolate fix.



My mom took Beebie shopping and got her 4 pairs of jeans. Beeb needed a belt, so I made one out of Recycled Sari Silk Yarn. Beeb dug it.



And yesterday I saw this at Knitorious -


KOFA said I should knit a cozy for my flask.


C) As you may know, my dad is a minister, and while he was here he wanted to find a vestment bag for his fancy preachin' outfits, so we went to the Catholic Supply store. I should point out that he's obviously not a Catholic priest, because, well, vows of celibacy and whatnot. But fortunately you don't have to show a Catholic ID when you go in, and the Catholic Supply shop is an absolute hoot, if you have a demented sense of humor like I do. And if you don't, I can't imagine why you'd read this blog.

The idea of Jesus playing hockey is just hilarious to me.



And this looks like the severed head of Bette Davis and her less-developed conjoined twin.



And right across the street from the Catholic Supply store is -



No visit to St. Louis should lack a visit to Ted Drewes. And it's NEVER too cold for a pumpkin pie concrete.


D) I'm pretty sure there's a special little extra-hot section of Hell just for the asshole who created Chuck E. Cheese. It's right next to the asshole who created Play-Doh, but that's another story.








E) The next morning, before my parents left, we went to a spectacular breakfast at the Original Pancake House or Company or something, I forget the name. Anyway, SPECTACULAR, I tell you.



The kids wouldn't let me snap a picture of them crying like last time.


We saw three movies over Christmas Break.



Between Bedtime Stories, Marley and Me, and The Tale of Desperaux, I liked Bedtime Stories the best.

Yesterday, Tito had a soccer game. And I went into full-on Soccer Mom Mode.

I'll have you know, KOFA, that I did not wear the standard-issue soccer mom uniform Adidas track suit. No, sir. No way.

Hoodie. Down vest. Ponytail. Fuck you. :P



And speaking of appropriate attire, what the fuck kind of mother puts a dipshit matching fucking BOW in her little princess' hair before she sends her onto the field to get her ass kicked? Seriously! This ain't no Little Miss Ladybug pageant, this is mortal fucking combat, JonBenet!



Tito scored a goal. Another boy on Tito's team scored four goals. FOR THE OTHER TEAM. Ooooh, I was about to leap from the bleachers and shake the kid by the shoulders screaming, "THAT's the goal you're supposed to be shooting at, dumbass!" But I bit my tongue while the dumbass kid's parents lavished a sickening amount of praise upon him.

"Wow, Sweetie! You were GREAT!!! You scored all those goals, and you even had a couple of assists, too! You're SUPER!! You're an AMAZING soccer player!!!"

I can't stand to see that kind of parenting. I'm all for the Nonpliment, in which you say something that's vague but true, such as "I saw you running really fast!" but don't let the kid think he's David Fucking Beckham if he forgets that you're not supposed to pick the ball up with your hands and he can't keep straight in his head which goal counts for his team and which one counts for the Opposing team.

Yeah, I get that self-esteem is fragile and whatever, and you can be honest without being cruel, but what's going to happen when that kid grows up and wants to be on the soccer team in his middle school, having been led to believe that he's a natural soccer star, and in the tryouts he scores six goals into the wrong net, since all this time he didn't think it mattered which goal the ball went into.

You think it's not going to be more damaging when he comes home crushed and says, "Mom, Dad, everybody laughed at me... and you told me I was GREAT!!! Thanks a LOT! See if I believe a word you say ever again!!"

Trust me, I'm the product of over-praising parents, and although I know they meant well (as all parents do), it's taken me my entire adult life to undo the damage. It's the root of my competitive nature - the need to be recognized for my accomplishments.

And lastly, I'll add this story just cuz it's funny - this morning I was about to take my daily meds, and I had poured two pills into my hand, I was about to put one of them back into the bottle, and instead I accidentally dropped BOTH of them into the open can of Diet Coke I had sitting on the sink. And I drank it anyway. No point in wasting two pills AND an entire bottle of Diet Coke.

Funny enough, sure, but then I had to explain to Tito that he couldn't have a sip of my Coke because Mommy put Medicine in it. I can just see that getting back to his teacher somehow. "My Mommy said I can't share her soda because she put Medicine in it." He's already told his teacher that Mommy drinks and drives pretty much every single day.

I fully expect an intervention team to show up at my house any day now.

31 comments:

Anonymous said...

OK, being completely serious here-- have you ever thought of writing a book? You have such a great writing style, your posts always make me laugh. You should give it some thought.

Kevin said...

I think the question is - which intervention team will get there first - the concerned parents/teachers from school who think you have a "problem", or your concerned friends who are worried about your "Soccer Mom" issue. I might just have to take you up on the offer to come see a game, so I can inform your loyal readers of the severity level of the Soccer Momness...

And thanks for dragging me along to Knitorious yesterday - I can now converse semi-intelligently with the little old ladies at church who love to knit :) My wife was impressed with what I learned about yarn weight, needle gauges, and types of yarn.

Penny Karma said...

Ha, excellent point about Which Intervention Team! Soccer Mom DEFCON Alert Level Orange.

I'm glad you liked Knitorious! I was bummed that Kickass Rachel and Never a Deb weren't there for you to meet. :(

Perhaps another time.

Bezzie said...

Do you think Jesus would ever throwdown the gloves and knock a few teeth loose? I might become a hockey fan if that were the case.

LilKnitter said...

Hockey-player Jesus??!! Great gobbity-fuck! That's insane.

You can't dream this stuff up!

And I love how Beebie totally looks like you in that pic with your mum: fun, ingenious, and a little maniacal. The way we all should be.

Penny Karma said...

I'm pretty sure Jesus is the goalie. Ya know why?

Cuz Jesus SAVES.

Ferris Family said...

I love the Jesus Hockey Statue! Every little boys' bedroom needs one of those.
My 2 monkeys are playing school district soccer. Coop scored on his own team, recognized the mistake, and then yelled at me when I said he had good speed on the ball. Perhaps we will play against you soon, I will sit there in all my non-soccer-mom glory with you.

Kashmir Knitter said...

Okay, I'm laughing my ass off here. I'm going to have to reread this as I type my comment because there was just SO MUCH I wanted to say as I was reading it. Next time I'll take notes.

First of all the Aldis are trash but you know that. I just thought it bore repeating. You know, when I imagine them I usually picture a whole family that looks like this guy at different ages (female versions have a pony tail).

My definition of photography is the process, activity and art of creating still or moving pictures by recording radiation on a sensitive medium, such as a film, or an electronic sensor. Light patterns reflected or emitted from objects activate a sensitive chemical or electronic sensor during a timed exposure, usually through a photographic lens in a device known as a camera that also stores the resulting information chemically or electronically. Which means "photography" was impossible in Ancient Egypt because there were no cameras. Your FIL can kiss my ass.

Rock Band is so awesome. Do you have Xbox live? We should play online!

That DIC Classy is the exact one I've been drooling over for six months. I wish I could afford a sweater's worth or that ANYONE in town would carry it!

I love Catholic supply stores. I particularly love buying vestments for people who only intend to use them sacrilegiously. I totally used to know a guy who LOVED dressing up like a priest when we went bar hopping.

I think the Chuck E. Cheese guy's hell will be spending all eternity in a Chuck E. Cheese.

I was on a soccer team when I was 10. We won our division or whatever it was that year. A bunch of the girls on our team had elaborate hair dos and matching scrunchies/hairbows/clips. You did NOT mess with those girls. Those girls would KILL you. Those girls were freaking awesome at soccer, so much so that they could wear that kind of crap and not even have to worry about any crap because they could run up the score in an embarrassing way. That was a fun year.

Over praising parents are sad.

Oh, see if the intervention team can send you to a rehab out here in California (we have tons of them), I'll bust you out so we can party. ;)

Anonymous said...

Yeah... Jesus saves, but Gretzky scores on the rebound.

Just sayin'.

Elspeth said...

I love the teacher/drinking/medicine rant. Hilarious! BTW the Chuck E Cheese guy was Nolan Bushnell, the Atari founder (and the first one was about a 1/2 hour South of us). He created a place for his games to be played (and make him money) by the whole family rather than just bar frequenters who saw them before. I'm not a huge fan, but it does have its moment - like air conditioning in summer and heat in winter.

SiressYorkie said...

I sort of think you're a post-feminist soccer mom there, PK. Making fun of a little girl with a bow in her hair? Wanting to rip the throat out of some dimwitted kid who scored for the other team? The down vest and the pony tail and the look that says, Back the fuck up?

Yep. WHOOOLE new kinda soccer mom. The one that actually expresses what we're all thinking.

Listen, I grew up in a soccer family...started playing when I was 4 and made all-star teams every year till I was 12 and blew out my knee. My dad coached. I spent a lot of time at tournaments, practices, games...everything. And in every case, the little girls start out wearing bows in their hair because frankly, they don't give a shit about the ball going in the goal...they just wanna look cute in the uniform. And the boys are like well-coordinated gorillas, just kicking the ball as hard as they can because they can.

And Kashmir, I TOTALLY know about the soccer whores you mentioned. I spent about 5 years of my life being bullied by such girls. Happily, I think they all fell into loveless marriages and developed drinking problems.

BTW, your Aldi gifts hit new lows. If you're gonna give a gift just to GIVE a gift, just do a card for $10.00 and call it a day.

Kashmir Knitter said...

Yorkie,

I actually was complimenting those girls. One girl I knew went on to be in the short lived women's soccer league here in the US. Those girls were brutally awesome. I was TERRIBLE and our team still kicked ass just because there were 3 girls who didn't need any of the rest of us to show up.

Disco said...

I only started reading your blog regularly over the last few months and love it. Although your reputation obviously preceded you on the knittyboard.

I agree with commenter above, you should write a book. Or you and Kashmir & Yorkie should write a book. I don't have the wit that you guys do, but I'm sure you could come up with something infinitely more marketable than Drunk, Divorced and Covered in Cat Hair.

Every paragraph of your post was funny, but what made me snort my Michelob Ultra on the keyboard was the hockey playing Jesus. Priceless (or $5.99, whatever!)

KOFA said...

That Hockey Jesus statue is actually one of a collection, if I remember correctly. I saw them on Conan O'Brien several years ago (geez, was that 7 years ago already?)

Ah yes, here they are:
Page 1 features Jesus dry-humping a boy playing baseball, elbowing a soccer player, and getting a reach-around from a boy in a football helmet.
Page 2 has Jesus dancing with little girls, teaching a girl how to "putt", encouraging violence, and totally being the third wheel in the hockey statue.
Page 3 has some (by now) surprisingly innocuous biking/skating, skiing, and tennis pictures, but I'm a bit suspicious of him kneeling with the two girls in leotards (What's the message? "Jesus loves flexible girls, just like normal guys"?), and I really don't want to know what he's going to do with that stick in the track photo.

And I'll never forget the Jesus Bobble Head a former coworker (at a Christian college) got from his brother-in-law.

Wow, too many jokes available with this word verification: chumseer. In this context, it kind of reminds me of Buddy Christ.

Penny Karma said...

Sadly, they don't carry this at the Catholic Supply store:

http://www.divine-interventions.com/baby.php

SiressYorkie said...

Whoops, sorry Kashmir...I think we might've had a different set of soccer chicks growing up. No offense meant.

Penny, when I was in Rome and visited the Vatican, I saw the face of Jesus (and the Pope) plastered over every possible piece of tat possible. You'd think that Rome, the Holy See, would be a bit more attentive, but I guess if St Peter's can be guarded by Swiss guards who look like Donald Duck, they can have tackily decorated souvenirs.

I did get a bottle opener with the former Pope's face on it. We call it The Popener. We joked that there should be a condom with the Pope's face on it called The Vaticon. Or the Pope-a-lactic.

I could go on like this all day, I really could.

Kashmir Knitter said...

They used to have a whole sex toy nativity on that site, PK. Freakin' awesome.

Yorkie, one of my friends from a million years ago collected Pope stuff, anything with his face on it was fair game. We're out to dinner with some people we were working with at the time and this collection of hers came up in conversation. One of the guys we were with completely misunderstood the fascination, turns to her and lecherously says, "So, you wanna hose the Pope?"

Some people just don't get it.

I like tacky stuff with the Queen of England on it. My favorite is the shot glass. It's gilded and not supposed to go in the dishwasher which often prompts me to yell, "Who put The Queen in the dishwasher!?"

I need to get a new Buddy Christ for my dashboard. You know what would be awesome? A Virgin Mary dash board hula girl. I'm going to have to work on that...

Kevin said...

"Buddy Christ" isn't the official name, just something we've been kicking around the office...

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3511/3183921718_743a37d8d3.jpg?v=0

SiressYorkie said...

Whenever my in laws visit, my Buddy Christ is displayed in a prominent place. I even move him about to get more impact. SMIL probably thinks he's following her...hehehe...

Yeah, the Queen's mug is plastered anywhere and everywhere. It's really kind shocking where her face turns up. It wasn't until my last year in England when I heard that Beatles song, "Her Majesty's a pretty nice girl, but she doesn't have much to say..." hehehe...

Penny Karma said...

Kevin, you should specify that you mean LITERALLY kicking around the office.

Kevin said...

PK,

I prefer to keep people guessing (its a part of my charm)

easier link to the picture

Penny Karma said...

Oh, Honey, you're oozing with charm.

You really should get that checked out. ;)



NOW people are reeeeally guessing.

Batty said...

Wow, they really need to shuddup. Oh the other hand... hey, I have this great photo of Moses parting the Red Sea... do you think he'd be willing to drop a couple of grand? It was taken by one of the Egyptians who was pursuing the Israelites. He was the only guy smart enough to turn around when he saw that water move. Heh.

BTW, there's a catalog... The Catholic Child. They have posters of Jesus playing hockey, basketball, socker, you name it. It really cracks me up.

Penny Karma said...

See, what I can't help thinking about when I see those Jesus Is My Coach statuettes is what's going through the minds of the kids on the other team when they show up on the field and see Jesus coaching the opposition.

"Awww, Jesus Christ, dude.... We're FUCKED."

KOFA said...

See, language like that is why Jesus is playing on the other team.

SiressYorkie said...

I'd watch out for stray lightning bolts if I were you, PK...it can still happen...hehehhee...

Hey, my verification word is "dicabl"...pretty close to "diabolical". There's a message there somewheres...

Kevin said...

PK - The doctor says the oozing will clear up with some antibiotics.

And please don't get me started on the whole "praying to God when your team wins" thing. My ex-FIL used to pray to God in thanks for giving him a good parking spot. I shit you not. I serioulsy think God has better things to do than get you a front row spot at Chuck E. Cheese.

And I should probably mention that I have gotten many compliments on my Genuine Penny Karma Custom Hat that fits my big head without pinching.

Evil Baritone said...

Lucky Penny, you look HOT in a ponytail while sitting on a toilet. ;)

Penny Karma said...

That's a hand dryer, but Oh my GOD! It does look like a toilet!!

Eeeew! Chuck Berry Cam stillshot!

I feel so dirty!!!

Penny Karma said...

When I'm on the potty I only take pictures of my feet.

Cary said...

Nerf toys suck my nuts. They can't even put an eye out. What's the point if there's no risk of serious injury?

I agree with Anonymous: You should write a book. You're damn funny.