When guest come to your house do you make them remove their shoes? Is it rude to ask them to do so? If a host requires a guest to remove their shoes then they should provide a chair, shoe rack and socks or slippers. This is when it pays to be a surgeon – swipe the booties from work to give houseguests. Every year we do what’s called the Parade of Homes, where builders get to show their newly constructed houses. Some builders permit shoes and others don’t, but provide booties.
It can be embarrassing for the houseguest sporting the sock with a hole in it to remove their sneakers. The big toe with the nail fungus is there for all to see. A pedicure is in order when going barefoot in someone else’s house. However, a host will regret making the guest with smelly feet go sans shoes. Guest will sniff the air trying to determine what the awful, cheese like odor is. Even the guy with the smelly, stomach churning feet doesn’t know it’s him; they never know.
At a friend’s house when I was asked to leave my shoes at the door I complied happily and didn’t think anything of it till their dog that was at the park came in and put his paws everywhere. The dog that was roaming the park and had probably stepped in poop, gum, sticky soda, dried up ice cream and God knows what else had the run of the place. They didn’t give his paws so much as a swift wipe at the door. The dog is essentially coming in with his shoes on. The same people who request you remove your shoes are the same people who let their dog carry in a host of ugly stuff under their paws. It doesn’t seem fair.
In my house I wear shoes, not for comfort or fashion, but for the extra height. I’m vertically challenged. If I don’t wear my shoes I can’t reach the top shelf. My husband comes in handy for retrieving things from the top shelf. I have a step stool for getting into my bed. I used to run (to get height) and jump into bed, but I got tired of the nightly gymnastic routine. So, when I’m home I could carry around a ladder or wear shoes. I choose the shoes.
This morning on my local news during a ‘Crafts for Christmas’ piece a lady was decorating a candy cane to look like a reindeer; ah, the abuse. Candy canes are in abundance this time of year.
Basically, a candy cane is a lollipop without a stick, which always gets messy. When sucking a lollipop or cane it’s inevitable that some drool will drip down. Don’t deny it! It happens! When it happens your fingers become messy and sticky. At least with a lollipop the stick makes things a little less sticky. This is why it’s not a good idea to suck on a candy cane at work; a big one can last all day.
You arrive at work sucking a candy cane to help soothe your sore throat. You suck loudly during the staff meeting and annoy your boss. When you stand to make your presentation you inadvertently place your sticky, germ riddled sucker on your co- worker’s lap-top. Your co-worker mentally scratches you off his Christmas card list and starts surfing for curses to place on you.
You’re still sucking away when a new client arrives to hear your presentation for their exciting new product. When the client shakes your hand and pats your back, you respond in kind. You pat the back of his cheap, wool coat several times. When you pull away you notice wool on your hand (tinged with red) and red stains on the back of his cheap coat. You lose the account, but get a $200 dry cleaning bill for his coat. Your boss gives you a pink slip and a candy cane and makes a mental note to return the Christmas gift he and your mother you. Security tosses you out the door and you land at the feet of a bell ringer who asks you for a donation. You give her your candy cane as you’ve vowed to give them up. It’s a sad story.
My local paper had a list of tips for sending Christmas cards. Tip # 1: Select cards suitable for the recipient’s beliefs. This means if you’re sending to a couple and one half is Jewish; don’t send a Christmas card, send a holiday card. The Christmas card selection in a store is huge, but, the Chanukah selection? Don’t blink or you’ll miss it.
Tip # 2: Make sure all names are spelled correctly. In some cases this doesn’t matter as I’ve received cards with the senders name only. Talk about an impersonal assembly line.
Tip # 3: Sends cards early so they can be displayed. I’ve gotten cards on Christmas Eve and after Christmas telling me I was an afterthought or they sent me one only because I sent them one.
Tip # 4: It’s ok to include a personal note, but keep it short as the days of the long, rambling newsletter is obsolete. Today, with Facebook everybody already knows your business, even if they don’t care or want to.
Giving Christmas cards can get out of control for just family members. When you get married and Christmas rolls around, you buy your spouse a card. If your spouse has family (most likely they will) you buy cards for their family members, now your in-laws.
Then you and spouse have a child and come Christmas you buy the baby a card even though they can’t read. You buy a card from your child to their awesome Daddy. Then you have a second baby which means more diapers and cards. Come Christmas you buy cards from one illiterate child to another. And now you buy one card for a great daughter and one for a great son. You and spouse buy cards for great daughter and son to give to their mommy or daddy. You buy cards for Wonderful grandma and grandpa from their wonderful grandchildren. Then you buy cards from your children to their Special Uncle which reads, ‘This card is to tell you how much you mean;’ of course they need the card to tell him because they can’t speak! They can’t speak and they can’t write!
After Christmas you buy and send cards to all who gave gifts. You get a card for the wonderful, special, awesome… and the insanity continues.
I just heard the song ‘My Favorite Things’ on the radio. When did this song become a Christmas song and why? I love the Sound of Music and the songs in it, but neither the movie nor the songs scream Christmas. The movie was set in Salzburg, Austria at the start of WWII; nothing in it lends itself to the holiday season. There were no lights, snowmen, reindeer or even a sprig of mistletoe to be seen. To associate this song with Christmas is really s-t-r-e-t-c-h-i-n-g.
I think if you want a song that’s perfect (and also stretching) for the holiday season it should be Gloria Gaynor’s I Will Survive. This song was about surviving a breakup, but come the holidays it could symbolize surviving time with family. Think about it, once a year you get together with family you choose purposely to see once a year and spend an extended amount of time with them. An extended visit is more than 3 days. 3 days gives you time to catch up, after that, catch up on FB. If you have guests that treat your house like a luxury hotel with you as the maid, after 3 days give them a bill equal to the rates of a local luxury hotel and you’ll be pleasantly surprised at how quickly they’ll leave. Here’s your coat. What’s your hurry?
Christmas will come and go and you would have survived shopping, baking, eating, parties, relatives with kids, relatives who ask when you’re going to have kids, relatives who drink too much and relatives who try stuffing the tree up the chimney because they drink too much. You will sing I Will Survive till they leave and when you find the wallet Uncle Sam (who spilt red wine on your white couch) left behind, you’ll have reason to start singing ‘My Favorite Things.’
My holiday season was ushered in with our local Christmas parade. This year The Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade made me feel old because when I read the list of performers in the parade I didn’t know half of them.
One year when I was walking to the starting point to join the spectators watch our local parade, a dog comes running down the street and starts chasing me. I ran from it for fear I’d be the lead story on the nightly news; ‘local woman bit by dog at parade.’ As I’m running with the dog nipping at my heels down the parade route I see some people smiling and waving (big at parades) at me. (The dog was also smiling and showing me all his teeth.) It dawns on me that these people think I’m part of the parade. These people thought watching a lady running from a dog while screaming, “Help,” was entertaining. Finally one spectator yelled “Hey, she has no candy. She’s not part of the parade.” He realized I was not the entertainment and jumped in to help me. He distracted the dog with candy. I would have thrown candy at the dog if I had any; better he eat candy than my leg.
Candy is big at parades. I think kids love parades because they get candy and unlike Halloween they don’t have to dress up and beg for it. They stand on the sidelines and people throw candy at them. If they’re lucky it’s the soft candy that doesn’t break when it hits the ground. This year a chocolate covered marshmallow Santa landed at my feet. I unwrapped it and bit off Santa’s head. YUM! I was munching on Santa’s belt, enjoying the parade when someone showed up with two, huge dogs. One approached and sniffed me and Santa. Oh no. Did he want a bite of me or Santa? I put Santa in my pocket and went home. There was no way, no how I was going to be the entertainment for this year’s parade. Not again.
Wintertime is the time for school closings and delays. The weatherman predicted snow overnight. DOT crews were reported to be preparing, which makes me laugh because what they really mean is they pray (really hard) that it doesn’t snow. Where I live everything shuts down when it snows. Even the plows get confused and stay huddled inside. One snowflake and everything comes to a grinding halt.
We got our ‘school is delayed 2 hours’ phone call at 5:30 a.m. It boggles the mind to think they wake us up to let us know school’s delayed and we can sleep an extra two hours, but I never do fall back to sleep. I want to wrap my hands around the genius who invented this program.
Remember the olden days when we found out the distressing news by reading the crawl at the bottom of the television screen. As I read the list of closings I’d get more and more anxious as it got to my daughter’s school. I would cross my fingers and all body parts that could be crossed for good measure. I would make a pact with God if her school was open I would never again use the Lord’s name in vain. Her school popped up on the screen – CLOSED. *** Dammit! I renewed my pact.
One night my husband and I were watching TV when a ticker popped up; alerting us my daughter’s school was closed due to inclement weather. Infuriated, I ranted and raved about the lunatics who would close the schools because it snowed in Alaska. This was safety overkill. This was *** Dammit! My husband told me we were watching a show we recorded back in January, six months earlier. Our daughter was on summer vacation. Just the thought had me frazzled and renewing my pact.
Then there was the morning my daughter waited for the bus for two hours. After two hours she came inside and asked, “Are you sure there’s school today? I’ve been waiting two hours.” Turned out the show I was watching was another old, recorded show and instead of it being 75 and sunny, it was 12 degrees and snowing. School closed! *** Dammit!
I renewed my pact with God and my daughter made her first one. I don’t know where she learned such language.
Butterball, The nation’s largest turkey producer, has announced there’s a shortage of fresh, large whole turkeys – 16 lbs. and greater this year. The company explained that they are ‘continuing to evaluate why they experienced a decline in weight gain on some of their farms.’ I’ve got a theory – maybe, just maybe, the turkeys smarten up and purposely didn’t eat much to gain weight so they could be killed and eaten by someone on Thanksgiving. I bet Tommy turkey was hip to the farmer who told him he would return his mother after he took her to be weighed. Tommy lost friends and family who went to weigh in and never returned. So, this year when Tommy reached 15 pounds, he cut calories. He cut carbs and the mayo from his ham (never turkey) sandwich. He spread the word and soon all turkeys were pecking at their food rather than gobbling it up. (Pun intended) This is my theory.
I eat and enjoy turkey on thanksgiving, but I enjoy the leftovers made from it better. What I like as much as the dinner is apple pie for dessert. Apple pie is as traditional as the turkey. I eat my pie heated, with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, on the side. I slide my homemade, store bought pie, straight from the box, into the oven to heat. I’ll be adventurous and eat plain apple pie, Dutch apple or apple crumb, with the vanilla ice cream. It has to vanilla and not some weird flavor like orange macadamia nut to go with the pie. This is not the time for experimentation. It’s time for tradition.
So, this Thanksgiving when you’re eating hot dogs (because of the turkey shortage) be grateful for the apple pie. Everybody loves apple pie. Unfortunately, so did Tommy’s mother, which is why she weighed twenty pounds and wound up stuffed with apple sausage stuffing as someone’s holiday feast.
There’s a website called ShesAHomewrecker.com. The site exposes your husband or boyfriend’s alleged mistresses with names, pictures and torrid details. One can publicly flog the other woman and shame your husband at the same time. This modern day form of revenge is what the ‘Scarlet letter A’ was in the olden days.
This site places blame on the other woman, not the man. Why isn’t the man held accountable? Didn’t the man participate willingly or did he have a gun to his head? He wouldn’t be there if he didn’t want to be. It was your husband who pledged to love you, not the other woman. She may not even have known about you.
Let’s face it, when a married man engages in an affair he may not tell his lover he’s married. If the guy’s lying to and cheating on his wife, you can bet he’ll lie to the mistress. It’s not like the guy has a high moral standard. Get real.
This site should be used to extract revenge on the husband as well as the other woman. Post embarrassing information about your husband the mistress doesn’t know. Give torrid details about the man you both love. Let the mistress know the following: his idea of musical entertainment is burping and farting in sync. His idea of cooking a gourmet meal is a bowl of Fruit Loops. His idea of housework is plugging in the vacuum for you. His idea of the perfect “As Seen on TV” Christmas gift is one that slices and dices.
Maybe, if the mistress sees the real man and not the man who’s wooing her, she’d throw him back. Maybe, the wife and mistress could form a support group and create a website –‘Women Who Were Duped.’ What a great way to get revenge on the one man who duped two women.
An article in my local newspaper reported marriage increases obesity rates and married people gain more weight than single people. I was not surprised to read this. The sharing of food as a gesture of love begins on the wedding day. No sooner does the bride and groom say, “I do,” that they say, “Let’s eat cake.”
A married couple becomes equal to a pregnant woman who eats for two. When you’re married, come holiday time, if the in-laws live close, time will be spent visiting and eating at two houses. So, even though you’re one person, you will eat two holiday dinners complete with turkey, cranberry sauce, grandma’s dry stuffing, pie and an antacid. This food fest accompanied with indigestion is now your two meal holiday reality. Loosen that belt
But, it’s when a couple becomes parents that it’s easy to pack on the pounds. If you’re baby refuses to eat baby food you make a show of eating some and exclaiming, “Yum,” in hopes of getting them to eat it. All that happens is you’ve eaten your baby’s food in addition to your food. After a year you’ve gained ten pounds. Since you don’t want to toss food left on the tray by your toddler, you eat it. After a year of eating two dinners you’ve gained another ten pounds.
For your child’s birthday you eat the homemade cake and the store bought cake (in case the homemade one was a flop.) You rationalize the extra pounds of baby weight even though your baby is twelve by telling yourself, “He’ll always be my baby.” Has anyone ever conducted a survey on how children contribute to parental weight gain? Just a thought.
Anyway, Halloween is another holiday where it’s easy to pack on the pounds. A parent can indulge in their kids’ candy well into the holiday season which brings with it the vicious cycle of the two meal holiday that started the day you said, “I do.”