everyone else has gone to bed? Not me, mind you, but others I’ve heard about….
Some of these Perfect Mommies are responsible for a ghastly new trend that is sweeping the country.
Called “ghosting” for Halloween or “elving” for Christmas, I am “barfing” at the notion that, at the end of a day of work, laundry, carpooling, cooking, and helping with homework, all I want to do is look at my front door and discover a white ghost-shaped cutout attached to a bag of treats. There are instructions attached, telling me that I must now skulk around in the dark and place my own homemade treats in bags for two new victims, er, neighbors?
I’m not thinking this is what the dead kid meant in the movie when he advised everybody to “pay it forward.”
A friend who has exhaustedly been “ghosted” at home and even at work, says she’s just churning the stuff.
Brilliant!
She and I think it’s possible that only one sucker actually baked treats a few weeks ago and the rest of us are just passing them along until they get really moldy.
It didn’t take me long to figure out a way around this foolishness. You simply tack a ghost cutout you’ve made yourself on your door and they’ll think you’ve already been ghosted. It’s just like Passover in the Bible, only without the mess and fuss of putting blood on your door.
I believe my idea is worthy of a Nobel Prize or at least a “No Doorbell” prize.
To the mommies who came up with this nonsense for the holidays, let me just say that you just need to go out and get yourself a good old-fashioned, feet-to-Jesus orgasm and you need to do it yesterday.
You are obviously under a lot of stress.
Like teacher gifts and all the rest of it, this is the sort of stuff that only a woman would inflict on another woman.
Can you in your wildest dreams see a bunch of men sitting around talking about ways to share treats with neighbors, making it fun for the kids and lots of work for them?
You can? Oh, sorry. I meant straight men.
Men get a lot of things wrong, but one thing they all excel in is their absolute total commitment to never adding a bunch of useless crap to their day just because “it sounds cute!”
You think a man is going to sit up all night cutting out little white paper ghosts or green and red elves to attach to a bag of homemade candies?
Oh, hail no. Not as long as we live in America and there’s still porn on the Internet.
You think a man is going to put up with tying little multicolored yarns to the bag and handwriting the “ghosting instructions”? See above.
These very specific rules require that the treats be left in a brown lunch sack on the doorstep, accompanied by The Official Ghosting (or elving, or leprechauning, or Easter bunnying, etc.) poem which you’ve hand copied just for them.
The last time somebody left something on my doorstep in a brown paper sack, it wasn’t candy and it damn sure wasn’t edible. It was also on fire, but that’s another story.
And don’t we already have enough crap to do during the holidays? Elving adds just one more level of horror to a Christmas to-do list that’s already as bloated as Kim Jong Il after his weekly pork rind binge.
Of course, I have been criticized for not being enthusiastic about this “neighborhood bonding exercise.”
Hey, I didn’t choose my neighbors. I don’t want to get to know them better. I just want to take a stroll at night, dart about the hedges beneath their windows, flatten my body to the ground and wait until it’s safe to look through their open drapes to see if any of them have anything that I’m jealous of. Is that so crazy?
Besides, you know how neighborhoods change all the time. You never know who’s moving in or who’s been kicked out.
I’ll miss ol’ Darius Lardbottom.
15
Nature Deficit Disorder Is Naturally Upsetting
Like a lot of kids her age, my Princess is big into music, mostly pop and rock listened via sparkly ear buds hooked into her MP3 player.
Some of these Perfect Mommies are responsible for a ghastly new trend that is sweeping the country.
Called “ghosting” for Halloween or “elving” for Christmas, I am “barfing” at the notion that, at the end of a day of work, laundry, carpooling, cooking, and helping with homework, all I want to do is look at my front door and discover a white ghost-shaped cutout attached to a bag of treats. There are instructions attached, telling me that I must now skulk around in the dark and place my own homemade treats in bags for two new victims, er, neighbors?
I’m not thinking this is what the dead kid meant in the movie when he advised everybody to “pay it forward.”
A friend who has exhaustedly been “ghosted” at home and even at work, says she’s just churning the stuff.
Brilliant!
She and I think it’s possible that only one sucker actually baked treats a few weeks ago and the rest of us are just passing them along until they get really moldy.
It didn’t take me long to figure out a way around this foolishness. You simply tack a ghost cutout you’ve made yourself on your door and they’ll think you’ve already been ghosted. It’s just like Passover in the Bible, only without the mess and fuss of putting blood on your door.
I believe my idea is worthy of a Nobel Prize or at least a “No Doorbell” prize.
To the mommies who came up with this nonsense for the holidays, let me just say that you just need to go out and get yourself a good old-fashioned, feet-to-Jesus orgasm and you need to do it yesterday.
You are obviously under a lot of stress.
Like teacher gifts and all the rest of it, this is the sort of stuff that only a woman would inflict on another woman.
Can you in your wildest dreams see a bunch of men sitting around talking about ways to share treats with neighbors, making it fun for the kids and lots of work for them?
You can? Oh, sorry. I meant straight men.
Men get a lot of things wrong, but one thing they all excel in is their absolute total commitment to never adding a bunch of useless crap to their day just because “it sounds cute!”
You think a man is going to sit up all night cutting out little white paper ghosts or green and red elves to attach to a bag of homemade candies?
Oh, hail no. Not as long as we live in America and there’s still porn on the Internet.
You think a man is going to put up with tying little multicolored yarns to the bag and handwriting the “ghosting instructions”? See above.
These very specific rules require that the treats be left in a brown lunch sack on the doorstep, accompanied by The Official Ghosting (or elving, or leprechauning, or Easter bunnying, etc.) poem which you’ve hand copied just for them.
The last time somebody left something on my doorstep in a brown paper sack, it wasn’t candy and it damn sure wasn’t edible. It was also on fire, but that’s another story.
And don’t we already have enough crap to do during the holidays? Elving adds just one more level of horror to a Christmas to-do list that’s already as bloated as Kim Jong Il after his weekly pork rind binge.
Of course, I have been criticized for not being enthusiastic about this “neighborhood bonding exercise.”
Hey, I didn’t choose my neighbors. I don’t want to get to know them better. I just want to take a stroll at night, dart about the hedges beneath their windows, flatten my body to the ground and wait until it’s safe to look through their open drapes to see if any of them have anything that I’m jealous of. Is that so crazy?
Besides, you know how neighborhoods change all the time. You never know who’s moving in or who’s been kicked out.
I’ll miss ol’ Darius Lardbottom.
15
Nature Deficit Disorder Is Naturally Upsetting
Like a lot of kids her age, my Princess is big into music, mostly pop and rock listened via sparkly ear buds hooked into her MP3 player.
Similar Books
