Things I Should Have Asked For

Squirrel gun Disposable fine china
Larger stocking
Moratorium on Alvin & The Chipmunks
More quiet cat
Less smelly dog
Scissors that cut wrapping paper to the correct size
Wrapping paper that stretches
Tape dispensers that never run out
Tags that write themselves
Explanations for 'what is it?' gifts
More wine
Less whine
Cinnamon babka or vodka or whatever
Self unassembling Christmas tree
Stretch pants
More memory to remember my blessings...Big Guy, Birdie, Daisy, Slim Jim, Cracker (sort of), Tequila (the Dog), Mom, Bro, Sis & family, Candy Squared, Darling Gail, Niece Nightingale, Fancy Free, Footloose, Miss Blue Eyes, BroGirlfriend, Angelique & Brad, Gertrude, Florida Sunshine and so many more.

10 a.m., In The Kitchen

Birdie:  Do we have anymore of that cinnamon babka?
Me:  No. Sorry. Your dad and I finished it.
Daisy:  You mean what was in the freezer!  You drank the whole thing!
Big Guy: What are you talking about?
Daisy:  I can't believe you and mom drank an entire bottle of vodka! Cinnamon vodka! I wouldn't even want that!
Me:  Not vodka. Babka. We ate the last of the Babka.
Daisy: Oh.

If You're Going To Wrap Gifts With The Big Guy...

don't expect to find the tape. If you find the tape, chances are the scissors will be missing. Once the scissors are found, Big Guy will wander into the kitchen to search for his glass of iced tea. Once the iced tea is found--in the den--don't expect Big Guy to remember which present is in the box he almost finished wrapping. Scrounge a second roll of tape, but don't expect that one to stay found long enough to pen a gift tag. What pen? Check under Big Guy's feet. Chances are, you'll find the first roll of tape, but not the pen. Search the crevices of the couch. Lucky or not, you'll find pennies, Dorito crumbs and a high school attendance slip from last year. Chances are, you won't find the pen. Send Big Guy to the grocery store. Pry loose the end of the tape, find another pair of scissors and another working pen. Wrap gifts as quickly as possible. Thank Big Guy when he returns. Save another thank you for Mrs. Claus, who wraps up Christmas while Santa searches for misplaced tape and thumbs through the channels.

It Would Work...

It's Friday & You Want Answers?

Dear Miss Flonotes,
Regarding "Plunder & Charity," how did you get so 'holier than thou?' 
Sincerely,
Conscience Calling

Dear Conscience Calling,
December brings out my 'holier than thou' self. I'll feel less like a snot when businesses extend their charity largess well beyond the boundary of Christmas and Amazon pays state sales tax. A generous cup of spiked eggnog will help, too.
Warmest regards,
Miss Flonotes

Of Plunder & Charity

Christmas ads are smothering me. Email ads, invited or not, pop up telling me where to shop to get the most bang for my Christmas bucks. Mailbox stuffers weigh in too...and if I wanted to buy another new car, Santa is selling them as the elves run the toy shop. Even the little bookstore--that I remain fond of, although I don't work there anymore--has jumped into the commercialism fray. As part of the St. Louis Alliance of Independent Booksellers, it invites me to purchase a book so it may be donated to a homeless shelter. I would prefer to give freely in peace without believing that a bookstore, or any other business, will earn a dollar as I support its chosen charity. But it is a confusing time of year. I want to spend my Christmas present dollars wisely and yes, the discounts and deals-of-the-day stretch my buying power. I also want to do that extra boost of remembering others. So I'm annoyed at myself for being annoyed at the little bookstore and its sincere effort at charity. In part, I blame Amazon. Independent bookstores are scrambling to find and maintain their niche in the face of Amazon's Scrooge-like behavior. The internet giant is reportedly rewarding customers who price-shop in stores and then purchase on Amazon. The small bookstores that bleed pink, if not bright red, are owned by booklovers. Imbedded in worries about tomorrow, they may not see the discomfort that comes in aligning themselves so purely with a charity that puts a little something in their own pocket. Perhaps next year they might fine tune their good-hearted effort to match the donations of their customers. But, I digress. This holiday season, I have bought from Amazon and other internet retailers. I spent other, more fun, dollars shopping local. I will support the little bookstore's holiday effort to place books in the hands of homeless mothers who want to read gently worded, peaceful bedtime stories to their young children. Most likely, I will grab a book from my home stash and donate it on the sly, without it ever crossing paths with the store cash register. At the same time, I will purchase a book from the little bookstore as I know its heart is in the right place, and I want it to do as well as any other business in this season of holiday plunder.

Ham & Stuffing

I am going to teach Tequila how to grab ham out of the refrigerator and then blame its disappearance on Big Guy's favorite cat Slim Jim. I see no other way to rid my life of last week's fresh baked ham. Similar to the leftover turkey guest of honor--and by that I mean an actual turkey--not Candy Squared, Grandma or Daisy--after a while, what started out as welcoming symbol of holiday cheer has morphed into big pink chunks of garbage-day-can't-get-here-soon-enough. And I like ham. But not day after day of it. Leftover bird stuffing is also hogging refrigerator space. And I have no idea how to guide Tequila's nondiscerning nose away from a ziploc bag of stuffing and toward the one filled with ham. Not that I'm saving the stuffing for nibbling. I will need it to patch up the holes I'm expecting. Sooner or later, someone will start another round of Alvin & The Chipmunks Christmas music. That turkey, whomever it might be, will fly hard enough to make a good-sized, well-deserved in the wall.