Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Rationalizing Yoda

I wonder why I thought shopping for stocking stuffers was synonymous to actually Christmas shopping. I had this cunning plan this year that I would do everything in advance. All of my purchases would be made online so that my claustrophobic self wouldn't have to deal with the pushy, no-eye-contact-making, "I shall stampede you to death", idiots who are racing to make sure little Dick and Jane have lots of gifts under the tree this year.

I'm not being mean. It's just that I can't ignore that I now live in an era where people actually are killed because they unknowingly got in the way of a purchase. Anyhoo, I digress. So, as you may have guessed, I waited until the last minute to actually get any of my real shopping done. I have been working furiously, getting all of my knitting projects done for my family. I have this strange desire to make sure that they all have something handmade from me. (that might have something to do with the fact that I love them more than life, but call it a hunch)

So, I have two and 3/4 children's sweaters done, 1 1/2 scarves, an awesome hat, some bookmarks and a Bible cover. I'm kind of freaking out because I'm not really sure that my nephew is going to appreciate wearing a sweater that has no neck. But I could be wrong. Kids are weird that way.

Jeff and I finally decided to hunker down and just shop. SO, that's what we did. For four hours we walked around shops debating over who wanted what. As I strolled (and I strolled because I don't walk fast for anybody), I found myself reminiscing to the days when Christmas was stress free. You know, when I was six, when all I had to do was stick some uncooked noodles on a piece of construction paper, title it "Best Mommy And Daddy" and suddenly I was the new Degas.

I'm not sure if it was because I was raised in a Haitian family, but we never were asked to make Santa a list. My mother asserted that Santa always knew what we wanted. As an adult "strolling" through Target, I now understand that statement to mean "You will be grateful for whatever I get you......and if you're not, get a job". Ahhhh, reality.

Alright, so I'm trying to be a bit more traditional, running through the mental list of items I knew my neice and nephews showed interest in. Alex likes anything having to do with Star Wars and Transformers, Aubrianna has become a musical junkie,....meaning she loves musicals. So she really wanted "Hairspray" the movie, and anything having to do with High School Musical. Okey-Dokey. Ethan is three, so basically he just wants whatever his cousins are playing with at the time. Thank God he's still easy to please.

OK.....toy aisle......Star Wars figurines.......24 dollars. EXCUSE ME?!! I got the shoes I had on my feet on sale for fourteen dollars.....and I wear them every day!!!

Again, I found myself thinking back to my childhood. This time I'm nine, Jenny is seven and Joey is is three and the world has lost its lid over this phenomenon called the Cabbage Patch Kids. Remember them? Yup. 75 dollars apiece for those suckers.

So....here comes Christmas and I think that I should be the spokesperson and I state very sweetly that since we have been glitter dusted angel children all year long, it would be awfully nice if Santa (you know, Mom) would get each of us our very own Cabbage Patch Kid. And oh, make sure they look like us because that's the whole point of having one....they look like your babies. Reasonable request, I thought. I wasn't a very bright kid.

So, Christmas comes, and I know that Santa didn't let me down because I saw three boxes under the tree that looked like the temporary home of the Cabbage Patch Kid Dolls. Jenny and I give each other excited looks, and we tear into the boxes......and we say hello to our new not quite Cabbage Patch Kid doll. I mean, in retrospect, the dolls were really cute, but I don't know......the blonde yarn curly hair and hand painted blue eyes didn't really have us convinced that these were the babies we had requested to look JUST like us.

So, I turned the doll over, hiding my disappointment, and I decided to look for the proof. I pulled the pants down and looked for the authentic "Xavier" signature on the baby's bottom. To my horror, (not really shock), my fears were confirmed. This baby was an imposter!

"Mom!", I pouted. "These aren't real!" She didn't even blink as she said with her smooth Haitian accent, "What's not real about it?" My brain starts screaming, "Don't answer her, it's a trap! TRICK QUESTION, TRICK QUESTION!". My father put his guitar down which was not a good sign. It meant the merriment had officially left the room. "DON'T ANSWER, YOU CRAZY PERSON". Brain. Still talking. Eh....,whatever. I answered.

"This doll does not have the 'Xavier' signature on it's butt and that's the ONLY way we know that it's a real Cabbage Patch Kid Doll". I got her. How could she argue? I got the eyebrow raise (the same one my Jeff gives me at least once a day) and she gets up from the couch without saying a word.

Oh my God, I ruined Christmas! I felt horrible. I was a spoiled brat who wasn't grateful for my gifts and now I had hurt my Mom's feelings and I ruined Christmas for everyone.

I was about to get up to beg for forgiveness when my mother came back into the living room. Sitting back down on the couch, she quietly leans over and snatches my poser doll out of my hands. Oh no......now she was taking it away and I would have NO doll. This was horrible. I tried to apologize for my impertinence but I got the look again, so I just shut my mouth.

Without a word, she pulls the pants down, and with a laundry marker she writes in beautiful cursive letters "Xavier" on the right butt cheek. She blows on it to dry the ink, puts the cap back on the marker, and says softly, "Is that better?" I could only stare. A full minute went by before Jenny couldn't contain herself any longer and just fell over laughing. And then I started laughing. And of course three year old Joey laughed because she was three, for crying out loud.

And then most importantly, my mother let out that great laugh that only she has, and she says "Be happy with what you receive, little girl". And I was, because I then realized that only I knew who the real Xavier was.

So, on that note, I contemplated.... how many signatures was I willing to forge this Christmas? The answer? None. The Star Wars figurines are in the process of being wrapped as I type. And besides, Yoda is kind of cute.

More later.........

~T