Wednesday, December 02, 2009

The Christmas List

I'm sharing with you because I can confide, right?

My mother has begged me for a Christmas list of little things that she can get me. She pleaded on the phone to the point where I wasn't going to call her anymore if I didn't send it (she gets a frantic voice going that disturbs me on a primeval level). I love my mom. I get weepy just thinking about how much I miss her. She has nothing but the best intentions for me and I know that. She does a lot of shopping over the phone from catalogs (not internet; too frustrating to "work the computer") - or worse - she'll get on 2 or 14 busses and go somewhere (inevitably in the rain or snow) to buy Christmas gifts. You see, my mother is a cripple (she's never learned to drive, that is. Thinks automobiles are for killing people - but hey, that is similar to my approach, right?). She's a little old lady (and yet I still think of as 40ish and blonde. I probably always will).

God, I love my mother. Sniffle, whimper.

Back to my lovely Christmas story..... Grab your coacoa and put on your Snuggie (TM)

I think Christmas lists are childish and narcisistic. If you're ages 5-12, its still cool. If you are a 29-something (shut up!), it aint so cool.

I sent my mom my "wish list" of little items that she could buy within walking distance or 1 bus away. It included items like Russel Stover chocolates (chewy caramel centers), room sprays, inexpensive perfume, and oh right - comfortable panties. Cotton. Size (not to be disclosed herein).

WHAT does my mom do??? She sends my list to my sister and to my sister's mother-in-law! I know my mother was trying to be helpful - to make sure that I get everything I want (why wasn't there internet when I wanted a pink bike with a bell, or a Betty Crocker bake oven, or a Barbie? I wouldn't have minded the distribution then.) Ok, but whyyyyyyyy? Why does this stuff happen to ME? My sister's-mother-in-law doesn't need to know how large (small) my ass is. She doesn't need to go to CVS to buy me chocolates. She doesn't need to buy me anything at all. It's like saying, "Yo! You need to buy an item on this list!" And personally, I don't want more than one of the items on that list. It was a "mommy and me" list!!!!

My sister, on the other hand, has no time. She'll just buy everything on the list and hand it to me. Decisions take time. In a decorative bag because wrapping is a pain in the ass. No time. Just buy it. And I can hear her inside my head, "Who makes CHRISTMAS LISTS?" while she buys all the stuff (through the perilous crowd of old ladies at CVS).

It is so wrong.

I immediately sent my sister a note to explain. She thought it was hilarious. She's determined to buy me grannie pants this year because of it. Oh, I can see where this is going: I will get nothing but Bridget Jones panties from here after. That just adds to my self-loathing image of myself as Bridget Jones; fat and alone at Christmas (wearing big panties).

Its not like I can tell my mom to buy me thongs is it? (Yo! Desert Girl - stor-reey phuleeze.)

My mom was really upset when she knew that I was upset and then I got upset because she was upset. That's just messed up. I'm SO going to re-gift my grannie panties to someone who actually IS a grannie (my mom). Oh yeah - she is going to get those panties, so she is.


Anonymous said...

Grannie Panties Are Hot!

Desert Girl said...

Ok thanks, grannie lover! :)

Anonymous said...

LOL I've had a Christmas List every year since cracking the Sear's Catalog spine... and granny pants are wicked comfy. One of the few perks of Skype and LDRs...