Friday, December 23, 2011

Pregnancy Hormones & Christmas Shit.

I have a 'To Do' List.

This has become my saviour over the past week because I can't remember anything I need to do, and was often aimlessly walking around shops, and then remembering what I actually had to buy when I got home again.
The things I didn't have to buy, such as hilarious musical reindeer antlers for the Kidlets, were tucked safely in the boot, when I made it home, though.

So, the To Do List which consisted of approximately 30 things I had to do three days ago, has dwindled down to two.

The final two items, although needing to be done by Christmas, are not Christmas related.
In fact, my list has become nothing but 'Buy Birthday Cards for Master S' and 'Buy sticky tape, for Master S' gifts, in case we run out'.

I went to our local Woolies, today, to smash these things off my list, just so I can spend the rest of today sitting on my fat crack before wrapping all night tonight and working all day tomorrow.

Unfortunately, after a visit to Woolies, I left with no birthday cards, no sticky tape and a massive bee in my oversized bonnet.

When I approached the 'Cards' aisle, I was greeted with half the birthday cards being stripped from their shelves and replaced with Christmas Cards.


The remaining half of Birthday Cards were just not good enough.
I wanted something sweet, with a picture he'd like. I was leaning towards a Thomas the Tank Engine themed card, originally, but when I saw that it wasn't going to happen, I was willing to settle for anything as long as he'd like it.

Anything except the cards that were emblazoned with 'To Our Son'. Why? Because they were all sarcastic, some incredibly offensive, and not really the 'perfect card' I had in mind for my three year old. Some of the insides were crude pictures of half naked women. Seriously, what about the people who buy cards for their sons when they are little, Card Makers.!?

When I asked the staff members stripping the cards if they had put away any nice, non-offensive cards for my three year old, I was advised by one male staff member, who clearly wanted me to move away, to 'Just buy a girl's card, he won't know the difference'.

No, he probably wouldn't, but I would.

I have no issue, whatsoever, with buying 'girl's' things for my son and 'boy's' things for my daughter, BUT, on their birthdays I don't really feel great about giving my son a card that says 'For a special girl' or 'To My Darling daughter'.

He can play with dolls, he can wear dresses, he can wear pretty pink nail polish, but he's still a boy.!

I also make a point of keeping birthday cards, so he may not 'know the difference' now, but in ten years time he will. And what am I to say when he finds a card for a special girl addressed to him? He's going to think I made no effort for his day, and will become upset. I know I would if I was given a son card as a little tacker.

So, in a huff, I moved on to the next item on my list thinking I'd rather get him no card than stand there with the staff member who was a second away from being hit over the head with my three litre carton of milk, which was sticky tape.

What do you know.!?
No sticky tape.!

I probably won't need it but come on. None.!?
Knowing this is the busiest time of year, stop hiring staff to stand around with their fingers in their arses and make them stock the shelves that need to be stocked.

Oh, you've run out of sticky tape.!? Knowing you only sell the one kind and you get deliveries every week, why not ORDER MORE THAN YOU NORMALLY DO.!? It's Christmas, that's when you will sell the most sticky tape. Do you think people will be wrapping gifts with the old 'spit and stick' method.!?

I ended up leaving with my milk, my even more aggravated bee, only to be ambushed by crazy nuts in Santa Hats asking if I'd finished my Christmas Shopping.

'You could say that', I sigh with frustration that I could be done with everything creeping up on me, if the bloody shop had what I needed, or even more compassionate staff, instead of the rude people I encountered.

'Wonderful. Can you spare some money for the *insert charity I've never heard of*?'

I love charity, but I'm hot, all but broke, fat, stickytapeless, cardless, and in a bloody hurry.


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