All I Want For Christmas Is Practicality

Well, here, once again, I find myself looking into the eye of a storm of holly, jolly, and a belly that shakes like a bowl full of jelly as Christmas quickly descends upon a majority of the world. The whole damn family gang is back in session and we'll all be senselessly quoting "Home Alone" and griping about controversial issues and how all medical TV shows lie about the residents hooking up in the on-call room. (New drinking game: take a shot every time someone says "Fuller, go easy on the Pepsi").  What is it… a mere three days until I get to disappoint all the people I know with gifts they didn't ask for and gifts that I definitely didn't go the extra mile for? I swear, every year, Christmas seems to come a little quicker and a little out of nowhere (but seriously, where did the last year go?)

In all seriousness, this year was the hardest year for me to try to make some kind of list of things I might want as gifts this year because no one really knows what I want ever. When I was little, it was so easy to just grab one of those 50-some-odd-page Toys R Us catalogs that came with the Sunday paper and take a marker and circle all the things I desired (mostly things that began with the phrase "Barbie Dream…"). I'd then just hand it to one of my parents with an added paper that said "Cash, money." I was one classy person before I became an adult.

Today, it's not so easy.

Society: Now that you're almost 21 and a fully legal adult who can partake in alcohol soaked activities, you need to stop asking for band t's from Hot Topic and jars of queso and Barbie dolls and merchandise for things you may not be interested in a few months from now.
Me: What?
Me: Escuse me?
Me: Then what is there to long for selfishly?
Society: Practical things. You know, like adult things.
Me: Adult things? From the XXX Adult Superstore downtown?
Society: No. Don't be a smart ass.

So, naturally, my christmas list this year looked very strange as I was typing it up at an unholy hour in the night. I found myself spelling out words like "socks" and "lotion" and "a cute kettle."  The lack of links to band t's and juvenile items was startling. I didn't even know what kind of person I was turning into as I continued to jot down items I'd never thought would be produced from the tips of my fingers unless I was writing some kind of abnormal fetish-infested erotica that beats 50 Shades in freakiness. 


But then I ask Bruce (one of those fully legal adults who can partake in the alcohols) what he wants for Christmas, and (proving my assumption that he'll just leave me to use my imagine to find a good gift for him wrong) tells me he wants all these fancy and "practical" adult items.

Him: *lists a couple of items I've never heard of but are definitely practical adult choices*
Me: *blinks*
Him: *sparkles with adult radiance*
Me: How dare you be more of an adult than me, you schnitzel eater!

Meanwhile, my overly-sophisticated sisters can't seem to make a list that includes an item that isn't less than $50 (well, except for Julia, who kindly just told me she wanted "merch" for Christmas). As far as I can tell, Christmas just gets harder and harder to make affordable as you age.

Unfortunately for me (and everyone blessed to receive something handpicked by me), I'll probably always be an awful gift-giver. And for this, I must apologize. I hope everyone enjoys their $5.99 DVD's of Les Miserables I snagged off Amazon at the last moment. 

But, you know, thank God for Dad who is happy just to have you there.