Most Wonderful Time of the Year (Video)

(To the tune of “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year”)
It’s the most horrible time of the year.
Politicians are yelling, then about-face telling you, “Be of good cheer!”
It’s the most horrible time of the year.
It’s the crap crappiest season of all
With black Friday seething,
then stomping and beating on people who fall.
It’s the crap crappiest season of all.
There’ll be family you’re hosting
And black eyes from boasting
And people thrown out in the snow.
There’ll be mean sober Lori,
Then sloppy drunk Lori
From holidays long, long ago.
It’s the most dreadful time of the year.
There’ll be much mistletoe-ing
And fear will be growing when uncles come near
It’s the most dreadful time.
(I think I might drink myself blind.)
It’s the most god-awful time of the year.  

Thanksgiving Run Down

Thanksgiving is upon us and the turkey is almost ready. It has been soaked in brine, injected, and rubbed. The only thing left to do is make love to it, but for the life of me, I can’t tell the top from the bottom.

If you’re like me, then you have three or four families to celebrate this holiday with. We had one such celebration this past weekend with my folks in Alabama. It was wonderful as always and reminded us of years past when we were all together. However, this year was very different. My baby sister is all grown up now, and within the last year has a new job and a new house to be thankful for.

I listened to her talk about her brand new world with pride. “I met my next door neighbor. She introduced herself as Jen, then mentioned that she goes by Diamond at work.”

I jumped in. “Well, that’s a lovely story, Leigh. Thank you for sharing that. You know, the world needs strippers just as much as lawyers.” I saw Brantley open his mouth and before he could get it out, “No, we cannot talk about something else. Stop trying to change my family.”

By that time, Leigh had moved on to a work related story. She is a nurse in a trauma/burn unit and has to encounter horrific things every day. She was telling one of these horrific and detailed stories at the table, but to my satisfaction she ended it on an up note. “If you can move your arms, I’m not washing your who-ha or brushing your teeth,” she said. Brantley got up and took Luke into another room where I heard him say, “Daddy, I wanna brush my teef.” Luckily, they were too far away to hear her recount accidentally activating a comatose patient’s penile implant, and then having to call the doctor and tell him that she had just given her patient an erection.

Ah, the sweet moments spent with family. I hope your Thanksgiving is equally magical. Happy turkey day!!


Luke’s preschool had their Thanksgiving pageant and party this afternoon. Not to my surprise, Luke wasn’t much on participation. He immediately ripped off his decorative Native American vest fashioned out of a brown paper bag, and threw down his feathered hat. Then, I had to sit in front of fifty people while securing him in position (held him down) as the kids sang a song about turkeys. He actually didn’t sing much, but he cut his eyes at me with a slight grin on his face which told me that he was enjoying himself. I was glad.
After the show it was time to eat. We got in line and while standing in front of the dessert table, Luke grew impatient and stuck his entire face into an iced carrot cake. Yes, it had nuts in it, and yes, he’s still alive. Then, he sat still long enough to stuff himself silly. The only thing that kid can be serious about is food.
After that, we helped clean up and headed out. I had to make one stop at the post office before we started home. There was a package that needed mailing. Despite my efforts to hurry Luke along, he sauntered through the parking lot and in the door as slowly as he could. I addressed the package and sealed it up. Now, all we had to do was wait our turn, but Luke had already proven once today that he wasn’t a good waiter. That’s when suddenly and without warning, he licked the garbage can that stood in the lobby. It seemed to have happened in slow motion, and much like a bad dream, I couldn’t intervene in time. Before snatching him up and reprimanding him, I caught a glimpse of the sticky brown substance he had just imbibed. Could it be anthrax, glue, or perhaps liquid cooties? I guess we won’t know until his fever spikes.
Have the holidays really just begun? Please someone, wake me when Santa leaves.