...(Men are so naive)...
Happy happy Spring! In giddy celebration of this blessed, long-awaited event, I spent most of yesterday shaving the shag carpet off my left leg, and today instructed my personal secretary to hold all calls while I worked on the right one. Yes, it HAS been six months. Yes, it IS a two-day job. Yes, Mr. IQ WAS standing by the whole time with a worried expression on his face and a bottle of Draino in his hand. And YES, YES, YES, I am SOOOOOO happy spring is finally here!! Was it just me, or was that the absolutely LONGEST WINTER EVER??
In addition to spring finally arriving, a little jaunt to Superstore (it's the Sargeant Avenue location that has all the good sales, incidentally) provided another unexpected source of happiness in the form of a lovely discount Danish blue cheese with cranberries. I know you are probably sick of my cheese exploits, but this time it wasn't just me indulging my lust for savory dairy products, oh no, it was also for medical reasons that I purchased la fromage avec les berries de cran. The cranberries will (supposedly) help with my little infection problem, and the cheese's bacterial ingredients will help repopulate the empty nooks and crannies of my microorganism-less bowels. While medicating myself with my health-promoting snack and washing it down with a large glass of cheap Canadian plonk, I suddenly had a flash of brilliance and, in my excitement, sputtered large chunks of aromatic cheese on Mr. IQ's school papers. A book! A health book! An international best seller! I'm pretty excited. There cannot be any doubt that my book, Cheeses that Heal, will make my fortune.
The clean-out process has come to a bit of a standstill as of late, first because Mr. IQ is getting into crunch time at school and also because of the animosity that broke out between us over Mr. IQ's super ugly and ridiculous Santa Claus trophy. Actually, there have been other things that have caused major ripples of discontent but I want to tell you about this one particular disagreement we're having because, well, LOOK at the thing. I KNOW you're going to side with me on this one:
The key to any good relationship is the ability to empathize, compromise, and find some middle ground on issues that are tearing you apart. Consequently, because I am just a super nice person, I have tried to find a place for the Santa Claus Trophy in our lives and in my heart. Armed with my copy of Martha Stewart's Guide to Beautiful Living, I have searched for a special spot to display it attractively or, alternately, find a practical use for it.
Some attempts:
... placed on the mantel of our cute ornamental fireplace...
... a charming conversation piece in the boudoir...
...company for High Intensity when banished to the funky, but incredibly uncomfortable time-out chair...
... a jolly companion for my cheap, dying carnations...
...helping with the paperwork until next Christmas...
... a little bed companion for those cold, lonely nights when Mr. IQ is
... and finally, as a "Special Santa Spanking Stick" for those serious crimes when daddy's metal spiked belt "just won't do." (Involving Santa will hopefully help take the edge off our nightly "family discipline hour" and lighten the atmosphere a little. I don't know if this is true of every home, but around here, the beating hour is always so damn tense...)
"This hurts Santa more than it hurts you..."*sigh* As you can see, I've tried to find a place/use for it, and to no avail. You would agree with me that it has to go, right? Right? RIGHT?????
6 comments:
Oh good lord! A Santa spanking stick is just about the funniest thing I've ever seen. I agree with you - it is hideous. I recommend re-gifting it to a worthy person. Perhaps we could circulate it around our blogging community - or send it on a trip of the world (circa Amelie) - or maybe you could burn it in effigy of...something. Um...good luck.
I guess it comes down to where it came from. Was it awarded to Mr. IQ for some achievement, or did he find it in a thrift shop? Assuming the latter (I guess I shouldn't make assumptions like this, but oh well) I'm sure it can find a good home... somewhere else.
BTW, where'd you get the Mulroney mask?
I like Krista's Amelie idea! If it didn't look so bulky, I'd offer to take it to Dallas.
But seriously, now that you have all those pictures of it, Mr. I.Q. could just make a lovely scrapbook of all of his memories of it for those times when he's lonely and regrets giving it up.
Whippersnapper, you need a column or some other place to publish. This is the funniest thing I've read all week.
How does one win a Santa Claus trophy?
so, you want to tell us where to put the santa trophy, huh?
ha ha ha. that's quite trusting of you.
I suggest you put it on your roof and use it to measure the snow fall.
As I was reading this hilarious blog, I thought of the Amelie idea too. What a blast that would be.
I must agree. That is one ugly item.
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