Christmas in September? Sort Of, Kinda

You know how every year, right around the end of November/beginning of December you start seeing the posts from your super-organized friends about how all of their holiday shopping is done and wrapped?  How they can't wait to relax and bake cookies and watch the snow fall?  How life is so much better because all of their holiday stress is gone?

Yeah.  I hate those people. (Not really. I still love you, but I question whether you are actually human.)  Their perfection makes me feel like a gigantic, inadequate slacker.  Every triumphant post declaring their shopping complete makes me want to punch an elf want to flick their post off of my screen, and then I stress out more about how behind schedule I am.

I'm not in the Holy-Shit-It's-Christmas-Eve-And-I'm-Shopping-In-A-Convenience-Store crowd, but I am usually wrapping presents right up until the last minute.  I never seem to have an few extra weeks before the holidays to relax.  I'm usually working, and cursing out the snow that I have to shovel to get to work.  Any cookie baking is done late at night.

Friends, you might be wondering why I am posting about this in early September. That's a fair question, and I have an answer for you:  I want to brag.

No, I did not get all of my shopping finished.  That's crazy talk!  Honestly, unless I see something awesome and perfect I probably won't even think about doing any for a couple of months. That's how I roll.  I can't think about Christmas when it's 90-something degrees outside and the air conditioning is running.  I also like to tell myself that I work better under pressure, so procrastinating just brings out my best.

I'm bragging about having started --and finished-- my Christmas shopping for my niece today.

Yes, I realize that it is only one person...
and those gifts have not even been shipped to me yet....
and they still have to be wrapped at some point...
and then shipped to Texas.

I don't care.  I'm counting this as a win. I got them ordered.  The hard part is now done.

I can officially cross one person off of my list.  Let me have my one small moment to bask in the glow of accomplishment.

And it will be a small moment.  I'm not posting the link to this anywhere.  I needed to get the bragging out of my system, so I dumped it here.  

If you're reading this I'd like to thank you.  Yes, you.  You must be a very loyal reader to have come across this.  Either that or you must be really bored to have found your way here.  Whatever the case may be, thanks for spending some time on my drivel.  I appreciate it more than you know.

Santa and His What Now?

First, the briefest back-story  possible....

When I was little, my parents took my brother and I on a trip to The North Pole.  My Uncle John,  Aunt Robin, and my cousins went as well.  When we went to visit Santa he was on a break, and we got to see Mrs. Claus.

Apparently my dear brother was not going to tolerate that.  Later on in the day, he decided to go back and see Santa by himself, without telling anyone.  Not good when you are just a little guy.  We found him, eventually, hanging out with Santa, but not before my Aunt had started checking all of the ponds and water features, sure that he had fallen into one of them and drowned.

The point of this awesome story -- there is an amusement park in New York state for kids that is called The North Pole.  I even included the link above for your enjoyment.

Got it?  Good.  Keep that in mind as you read on.

My niece and nephew are here staying for a few weeks.  Here is a guide to the people involved in tonight's conversation:

L: My niece.  She is 10.
A: My nephew.  He is 5.
Mom:  My mother.  She would kill me if I listed her age.
Me:  That would be me.  And old enough.

This is the conversation that took place in the car earlier this evening.

A: I've never seen snow.
L: I have!
Mom: We know.
Me: Austin that's why you should tell your Daddy that you want to come visit in the winter!
L: For my birthday!!!!!
Me: I tried mailing you a can of snow for Christmas.  Did it work?
L: Sort of, but it didn't really feel like snow.

Kids are chatting in the back of the car...

Me: Maybe we should take him to The North Pole.  They had that cool ice pole thing that was there all year round!
Mom:  Did they have snow?  I don't remember.
Me: I remember Aunt Robin thought Brian had drowned somewhere.

A: I've been to the North Pole!
L: No you haven't!
A: Uh-huh!  I was there, and I saw Santa, and I was throwing snowballs at him and his midget clowns and...
Me:  Wait wait wait...what?  His midget clowns?!
A:  Yeah.  His midget clowns.
Me: You mean his elves?
A: Yeah -- his midget clowns.  The guys in the funny suits.  They hate children.

At this point I kind of checked out on the conversation.  I was laughing so hard about the "midget clowns" instead of elves that I never did hear why he thought that they hated children.