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Not Killing My Husband for Christmas

December 15, 2008 - Summer Wallace-Minger

I didn't do it, and I'm proud of myself, because he was really pushing it.

First, it was the Christmas tree. He has to argue with me over the lights every single year.

(Commercial interruption: Sierra wanted to be in this blog. Now she is. That is all.)

Anyway, he always complains that I want too many lights on the tree. He's always accusing me of trying to burn down the house. My argument:

1) They are flippin' Christmas tree lights. They aren't burning anything down.

2) Four strands of Christmas lights aren't dangerous. Really, they are not deadly weapons or anything, I promise.

3) Maybe burning down the house would be okay; we'd get the insurance money and we wouldn't have to replace the windows.


Then, he made fun of our Christmas tree ornaments. Okay, some are old, some are brokenish and some are handmade, but they all have stories behind them. He had to make a point of throwing away one this year. It was a gingerbread man my daughter had made at school.

He took it out of the box, looked at it and said: "Why is this all gray?"

"Let me see." I snatched it out of his hands and inspected it closely, and promptly regretted it. It was ... well, it was moldy. It was made of real gingerbread, and I was under the impression that it held up. Apparently, it doesn't.

"Oh, it's glitter." Hannah was unconcerned.

"No, that is NOT glitter." I was somewhat horrified and mournful that it had to be thrown away. I felt like I was throwing away a piece of my child's past.

"Hey, I made one of those Friday!" my son announced.

My husband didn't want to hold a little ceremony before we threw it away. He's callous like that.

Then, shopping for the kids -- look, I know we want to buy nice presents the kids will enjoy and use while stretching our dollars as far as they will go. However, he shot down EVERY suggestion I made and groused the WHOLE time about missing part of the Steelers game.

1) I could give a rat's patootie about that stupid football game.

2) What is more important? The football game or Christmas?

3) Also, what is more important? The football game or your children?

4) Will they play another football game next week? I think they will.

5) If you want to go home and watch the game, SHUT UP AND BUY THE PRESENT I SUGGESTED.

6) If you have a good idea of what you DO NOT want, please have an equally good idea of what you DO want.

7) Also, I don't care about your stupid football game.

8) One last time to make it clear: Do. Not. Care. About. Football.

So my present to him this year will be allowing him to live.


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