Joy to the Girls

If you googled the fattest most alcoholic person in America – I am pretty sure my picture would pop up.

I am just tired and filled with pasta and cheese and alcohol.

For a minute I thought I would write a new blog post but then I went to the table where my laptop is and I saw it surrounded by the evil Lego sets that Santa brought despite my protests…

That’s the Millenium Fucking Falcon Legos that come in a box with one thousand three hundred and twenty-nine legos….


So obviously I cannot form sentences or tell you a new story this week…

It’s just the same old story – about the wife and mother that does everything while her husband stands by drinking a beer and watching a football game.

Even at midnight on Christmas Eve! There’s some sort of sporting event that needed watching while a poor fat tired woman sat on the floor wrapping presents and stuffing stockings….

Here’s a post from last season – but nothing’s changed….

My young pregnant and somewhat newly married cousin was upset with her husband on Christmas Eve.

“What’s wrong?” her mother asked.

“Well I was upset because I like wrapped everything and Bob didn’t help me.” she answered indignantly.


When we all stopped laughing we broke the news to her.

He will never help during the holidays….It will only get much worse.” we warned her.

She stared back at us with unbelieving eyes.

She will have to learn the hard way.  She will soon learn that Christmas time is a treacherous time that can almost end in divorce if you are not careful.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her just how bad it will be.  You will not only be upset that you will wrap every single gift yourself.

How do you think those gifts will even get to your house? Do you think that your husband will go get them?  Do you think he will give one ounce of thought towards gifts for his flesh and blood children? Or his family?

No he won’t.

I personally thought of each and every gift that would be given and I personally went to purchase each item.  When I couldn’t find what I needed  I would search online and buy items at night while Mr. Gaga and the children slept with sugar plums dancing in their heads.

I only asked Mr. Gaga to do one thing.

Michael had asked Santa for a very expensive Lego Set.  I had ordered it right after Thanksgiving because I am very efficient.

I noticed that the package had arrived one day when I got home from work.  I discreetly asked Mr. Gaga to hide the box somewhere so the kids wouldn’t find it.

“When you hide the box – will you just peek in to make sure it’s the right Legos for Michael?” I asked, as I wasn’t entirely sure that I had gotten the right set.  The kids are obsessed with all Star Wars related Legos – and Michael had requested an Ewok Village, and I wasn’t entirely sure I had gotten the right item.

When Mr. Gaga came up from the basement later – he assured me that the Legos in the box were the right ones.

Fast forward to December 23rd.

My back was broken while I wrapped the 50th gift.  Mr. Gaga was watching television in the kitchen enjoying his life.

I opened up the box that the LEGOS came in.  I pulled out the box that was supposed to be an Ewok Village.

This was in the box....I see no Ewoks here.
This was in the box….I see no Ewoks here.

I thought my head would explode.

I entered into the room where my enemy was seated watching television oblivious to the pressures and demands of the holiday season.

“I am going to murder you right now – so be prepared.” I announced holding the wrong Legos in my hand and a box cutter in the other.

Mr. Gaga glanced up at me – unafraid.



When I shoved the Rancor Pit LEGOS into Mr. Gaga’s face and demanded an explanation, he answered, “I never heard him say he wanted the Ewok Village,” with not a care in the world.

“You didn’t??” I asked incredulously. “Well – since you pay no attention to what’s going on around here – it’s in FUCKING WRITING to SANTA!!”

I ran upstairs and found Michael’s letter to Santa and came down with it and threw it at Mr. Gaga hysterically.

He read the letter serenely.

He looked up and shrugged.

“Well – I never knew he wanted that.” he said as he tossed the letter onto the kitchen table.

“I am going to fucking kill you.” I screeched. “I can’t trust you to do anything!!!”

I think at this point he started fighting back and telling me about all of the stuff that he does, but I had blacked out from anger and went to upstairs.

I was beside myself.

How could I fix this?

The next day was Christmas Eve and when I googled the “Ewok Village” I found out it was $250.00

I couldn’t just go out the next day and shell out that much money on an extra gift! And plus – would I even find it?

Then I thought of a great solution!

The one thing that I hated most during the holiday season – might actually save me.

The one being that could actually help me right now – was NOT my husband.

It was in fact …….


Who would think this fucking asshole would save the day??
Who would think this fucking asshole would save the day??

I wrote in my most elf-like handwriting a elf-ish note about a mix-up in Santa’s workshop – and would Michael please forgive the elf for mixing things up….

He accepted the mix up – Thank you JESUS!!

I decided to speak to Mr. Gaga the next day – because otherwise Christmas would be completely destroyed.  I have to remember for next year – that he LITERALLY cannot do ONE thing related to Christmas or everything will be ruined and we will get divorced.

And it’s not just me.  It’s women across the land.

Men just don’t seem to engage in the holiday hustle bustle.

Why would they??? We do EVERYTHING for them!!

Are they assholes?

Or are we?

I work in a retail environment and if I had a dime for every woman throughout December bought herself something and told me she was putting the item into her own stocking…..

We have even given up on the men actually buying OUR gifts!!

One year I gave Mr. Gaga no direction and thought “If he loves me then he must pay attention to what I enjoy and like and he will get me something that I really deserve and love.”

Guess what he put in my stocking that year!

Just guess!

I will give you a hint….

It’s large enough to fill most of the stocking…..

It’s orange……

It rhymes with “Boda”


We almost got divorced that year.

“But you really like orange soda!” Mr. Gaga said as his defense.

“I can buy my own soda – you fucking asshole!” I screeched as I threw the soda out the window and buried my head under a blanket and cried.

I cancelled stockings after that in order to save my sanity and my marriage.

And now I have learned that hints and suggestions are for the best.

And now my heart soars that he even picked up the hint.

Gift cards are welcome here.

(Preferably to places that I frequent.)

And thank God Mr. Gaga actually realizes that after 19 years of togetherness.

I was showered with gift certificates, the kids were showered with various games and toys, Michael was showered with the WRONG LEGOS and all is right with the world.

FA LA LA LA LA.  Until next year…..



4 thoughts on “Joy to the Girls

  1. #somuchtruth
    …and yet we continue to do it.

    We decided to only do stockings this year as we had to buy a new roof in late November. Thinking that I wanted to do some special things because it’d just be a stocking, I researched different things online a month out, designed and made a couple of the items, etc to make his stocking special. When December 23 rolls around and I needed lots of help (well as much as a man can so) as we were having a ton of people he next day, I asked him his plans for the day. “Oh I still have to get my parents’ gift (the only one I now FORCE him to do) and it shouldn’t take me too long to grab some stuff for your stocking.” “Grab some stuff”… So at 9:43pm, he went to WALMART and grabbed some junk (including jars of olives- yes plural – hey I love olives but really, two???) and some other assorted Walmarty shit and was home before 10:30. Yep. that was the extent of his holiday preparations. They just. don’t. get. it. (And we keep enabling them by doing everything)

  2. My husband did help put the (wrapped by me) gifts under the tree. The next morning he did watch the kids open them for 15 minutes. Then he turned on the television and that was the end of Christmas. Weeks and weeks of preparation by me! But the kids were really excited, and are still playing with all their stuff, so I guess its worth it.

  3. So, so glad to know I’m not alone. I stuffed my own stocking this year, as I’ve done several other years, so that my children wouldn’t wonder why Santa left me high and dry. One year when I realized he’d done nothing, I ran through the house around 2am and put stuff I already owned in there – open cologne, mascara, etc. Once in a while the husband will remember to get some random “stuff” for my stocking… This year I got some barf, I mean some “Basil Turkey Jerky.”

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