Holiday Observations

I was chatting with the guy who drives the Children’s Tylenol tanker truck the other day (we always top up our tanks this time of year) and we got to talking about what we got our kids for Christmas.

Turns out his son got an Air Boss flying plane you can recharge in 10 seconds! Man that’s so cool. And it flys for like, a minute at a time! And it’s remote control! Awesome! My son got one with ducted fans that looks like an SR-71 Spy Plane. Holy cow does it fly! It’s up on the roof right now resting but when the snow melts…

They’re for the, uh, children.

Yeah.

Hey – we’re 6 and up so we qualify.

- - -

In my house I was in charge of the stockings. When my wife told me this, I initially thought it had something to do with the sheer black ones I wear with my little French maid outfit.

Uhhhh.

Nevermind.

This column of observational humour is not going as I had hoped.

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Actually one thing I can write with passion about is packaging.

This goes against all of the morals I usually hold dear, but I would really enjoy slowly torturing the person who thought that attaching toys to their packaging with 16 pieces of wire and several steel cables would somehow benefit consumers.

I submit that any benefit that accrues from such a scheme is more than outweighed by the cost of returns of damaged goods that were shot, stomped, cursed at and otherwise mutilated by frustrated fathers who couldn’t figure out how to get the damn dolls out of their packaging and there is a hidden wire somewhere and more tape and I can’t take it any more I need more eggnog aaarrrggghhhh!!

Would you excuse me just a moment? I think I need some more medication. Thank you.

- - -

(Several medications later)

- - -

Now where was I? Ah yes. A fantasy...

I would greatly enjoy the packager torture sessions (noted above), which would last precisely as long as it takes to disentangle the precious toy from its confines of depleted uranium wire and titanium screws buried deep within its hardened concrete-like confines. Disembowelment would not be unreasonable. With a blunt object like a spoon perhaps.

And then it’s off to church!

- - -

I am on the injury reserve list…I threw out my shoulder pitching during a full contact Wii baseball session. My whole arm hiirts. Wii are not amuused.

I have also discovered that I cannot hit big league pitching. My dreams are daashed yet agaiin.

- - -

The kids and I were occupying ourselves in the van while mom got groceries.

We made an amazing discovery!

By careful placement of the ammo (a stuffy), you can use the passenger seat as a catapult! Place stuffy on headrest in full recline, have passenger lean out window while holding trigger (release handle), then fire when ready! We achieved world record distances – some as far as the windshield.

My wife was so proud when she got back.

- - -

I enjoyed standing in line with a bunch of husbands at the neighbourhood grocery on Christmas Eve.

4 o’clock.

We all wore the look of relief only a husband can feel upon actually finding the vital ingredient that was needed by spouses who thought they had enough of something but didn’t.

I was Nutmeg Man, the guy behind me was Whipping Cream Guy, and the guy behind him was Crouton and Cranberry Jelly Guy.

We’re not quite what Marvel Comics had in mind perhaps, but we knew we were heroes nonetheless. Capes please.

- - -

I still say the greatest gift a man can receive is the feeling of when a small (or large) hand slips into his. Unasked for.

Just because he’s Dad.

I got a lot of wonderful gifts this year. Thanks.

Happy New Year.