Thursday, December 15, 2011

Why can't I get into the holiday spirit?

    It all started with a dirty diaper.  
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    Wait, back up, that's a bad place to start.  You need to read the beginning of this story first.

    The day I turned into Scrooge, it seemed like a beautiful day.  My children sang Christmas songs.  I thought all was right with the world.  We planning on getting a tree.  AND it was Sunday and I figured, if God liked that day, then so could I.
    Things unraveled around lunchtime.  We didn't get a tree.  Cade packed to go on a business trip.  After he left me WITH HIS FOUR CHILDREN, the kids practically got rabies.  They ran around screaming.  The Zombie Elf (my three year old) lathered himself with shaving cream and looked like the lead in Avatar.  I dragged Doctor Jones from the vents and begged her to stop throwing my precious ornaments away.  
    It was when The Zombie Elf locked all of the doors upstairs and left me with no easy way to get into them, that I almost fainted.
    But could I rest? . . . No, because Doctor Jones had just made a poopy and I wipe butts for a living.
    So, as I changed her "bum bum" (as she says), I just knew my three other children were up to no good.  I wrapped the diaper in a baggie and put it on the porch.  
    Before going on, let me explain: the point is that the Zombie Elf made diaper bombs once.  It was so terrible, so horrific, I never blogged about it.  Needless-to-say, that's why I'll put poopy diapers on the porch.  I always take them out soon after--when I find where the kids have hidden BOTH of my shoes.

    Since you know about my hectic day life, now you'll understand why this next part made me so angry.
    As I cleaned another layer of shaving cream off of the Zombie (who'd just finished soiling and ROLLING IN THE CLEAN LAUNDRY), someone politely knocked on the door.
    I ran toward it, threw an apron on and smiled.  "Yes.  Isn't this a wonderful day?  How are you?"  I batted my lashes and tried remembering if I'd brushed my teeth.
    Okay . . . I wasn't that bad, but I did want things to seem all right, especially when I saw Miss Priss on the other side of the door!
    Do you remember her?  She's my arch enemy--seriously.  She never makes mistakes.  While I'm wearing sweats and sporting a ponytail, she's dressed to impress.  I always see her at the worst times and she doesn't even know what a bad day is!
    To read about our history, please go here:



I left the bag in the turkey!

      So, Miss Priss was at MY DOOR--wow, what an honor--blah blah blah.  "We're doing just great over here.  How are you today?" I said louder.
    "Unwell," she said.  "I go jogging every morning . . . as I'm sure you know . . . and almost every day at this time, you have a dirty diaper on your porch."
    She was kidding right?!  She would jog looking like that?  That set was what I'd wear to a prom.  I just stared at her.
    "These diapers," she motioned to the lone diaper on my porch and scooted away from it, "are bringing down the property values in our neighborhood."
    "Really?"  I asked, but on the inside I wanted to punch her in the fake boob!  Our property values are already so low, how could a diaper bring them lower?
    "Next time, I suggest you take your trash to the garbage can where it belongs."
    "Thank you so much for your . . . concern," I said.  
    Then, as she strutted away, my children screamed in the house and I thought I might explode.
    The Grinch's actions never made sense to me.  I never understood Scrooge, not until last Sunday when Miss Priss made my heart shrink two sizes too small!  I hate admitting this but that day I hated the holidays; I didn't care for Christmas, but most of all I loathed Miss Priss!
    It's strange though, how strong emotions can bring unity.  The Scribe and the Hippie ran up to me after I shut the door.  "I don't like that woman," the Hippie said.
    "Yeah," the Scribe agreed.  "Plus, we've been talking and we think she's a witch."
    "What?" I asked.
    "Don't you remember reading 'The Witches' . . . Women like that always wear gloves.  They love wigs and they're mean to children."
    "So."  I crossed my arms.
    "She always wears gloves!" the Hippie said.
    "That hair can't be real."  The Scribe smiled.  "And we know she's mean to children.  Plus, take off all that makeup and I bet she'd look hideous."
    "O-kay," I said.
    "We need a plan."
    "What do you suggest we do?" I asked.
    "We need to pull off her wig!" The Scribe's eyes shone and I nearly died of laughter.  
    Sure the Zombie Elf had found the shaving cream again.  Sure, Doctor Jones made another poopy, but things weren't so bad.
    "I can think of something even better," I whispered, then cackled until my throat hurt like hell!  
    Miss Priss would regret talking to me; she's rue the freakin' day!  My idea was epic, even better than this!
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    "If all of you can find the trash in our house and put it in a garbage bag, then I'll give you ice cream." 
    They were so excited.  They sang songs about sleighs bells and "Santa Baby."  My two youngest kids stopped being hellions and collected trash instead.  It was glorious, fantastic, and as soon as we finished filling two HUGE sacks with broken toys and ripped-up ads, I put the sacks on the porch, right on top of that diaper, then I shut the door.
    Miss Priss jogged by later that day.  She wore tight, black pants, a fancy sweater, ear muffs and (as my kids said) a wig.  I waved to her as she passed by.  But she gave me the look of death.  Maybe my actions weren't nice.  I know they weren't Christian.  I know it wasn't a good thing to teach my children.  It's just that I'm sick of people walking all over me.  
    Once a friend told me I have a flashing sign on my forehead.  "It says, 'come take advantage of me; be mean to me; steal the ADT sign that used to be in my yard!'"  Well, last week I stood up, and that garbage on my porch stands for something . . . it stands for the words "Have a Merry Christmas and LEAVE ME ALONE!"
    I've never flipped someone off--at least not intentionally--but now I understand why people do it.  Sometimes it's fun telling people to mind their own business.
    Have you ever done something like this?  Do you think I'm terrible?

31 comments:

  1. LOL! Like the trash bags on the porch! Nice touch! It's not like you put a bow on those bags with a gift tag addressed to Miss Priss!

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  2. Um, I love that it rallied you and the kids. It was a funny story, a bonding moment, and one day I'm sure your oldest will remind you about it and you will re-tell it to the younger ones who will laugh. And knowing kids, they'll want to do it "again!"

    It's not as bad as Cousin Eddie on the Christmas Vacation movie, but I love the thought behind it just the same. "Merry Christmas, Shitter was full"

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  3. I love the story. Frankly, you're much nicer than I would have been.

    I hope Miss Priss has a Shitty Christmas :D

    And the bonding moment, was awesome!

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  4. I think you managed things well. And have done the foul diaper on the porch trick myself.

    I do enjoy hearing our friend's (lazy dad) way of coping in being home with three kids. He puts the older kid "in charge" and says "don't break anything and wake me up when you hear mom pull in the driveway."

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  5. She deserves a diaper bomb to the jugular! Who comes up with a diaper on a porch being a cause for house prices to fall??? If she's not trying to sell her house then why would she care and if she is trying to sell her house then Hallelujah!!

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  6. That woman is a witch and the word that rhymes with it..haha. Good for you giving the prissy thing a sight to see.

    Next step - take the diaper bomb and light it on fire on her door step..haha. Or that may burn her house down, as she could be too prissy to stomp it out. So save up a whole bunch of diaper bombs, set them up in a net type thing and have it rigged above her door. Then when she goes out, pow diaper bombs all over her head.

    Or better yet, so no trouble can be had like trepassing and crap liek that, do it to your own door. Don't hook it up until you see her coming, then invite her in. When she opens the door, pow, diaper bomb attack..haha..then quickly snatch her wig and shove her back out the door.

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  7. If I lose the middle finger on either hand, it will be a sad, sad day. They see so much action when I'm driving.

    (Sorry I've been absent for a week. My Reader was acting out.)

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  8. Ah unlikeable neighbors. They're always there to help remind us of the shallower parts of the gene pool.

    I have a strict "I don't bother you, so I'd prefer you not bother me" policy when it comes to neighbors. Sadly its a policy that some people just do not get. In my neighborhood alone we have a bunch of them. People who would rather let their dog crap on my yard, rather than their own precious grass, people who have no problem dropping their Friday night six pack in yard, people who see no problem using my lawn as a shortcut (corner property) rather than stay on the sidewalk.

    Someways it is sooo tempting to just open the front door, tell my two dogs "have at them!" and just let them loose.

    But I don't...at least not so far. :)

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  9. Well it's about Damn time! Bravo! I live in your neighborhood and let the biddy rot and property values be damned. Sorry on one today.. I really dislike some of these goody two shoes that like to tell us we are going to hell for this crap. Sigh. We should mount a revaluation.

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  10. i love that you refer to your child as the zombie elf. that is so something i am going to do.

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  11. Dude you got me rollin with that baby pic lol .

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  12. To PAT HATT: I knew you were funny. AI didn't know you were absolutely brilliant!

    To MELYNDA: Did you mean "mount a REVOLUTION?"

    ELISA: If you followed a poopy bomb with a water bomb (with liquid soap inside) you could both get someone dirty & clean them up.

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  13. Awww, that baby photo is killing me!

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  14. Do I think your terrible?!!! I think you must be a saint! I would not have been nearly so nice if that busy body had got her nose into my business like that. And as for your children, I think they got a good lesson in standing up for yourself and letting others know when they have intruded too far upon your good will. Well done!

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  15. Can't get in the holiday spirit? Sounds like you should do my Bah Humbug Blahg Fest: http://grumpybulldog.blogspot.com/2011/12/bah-humbug-blahg-fest-participants.html

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  16. You naughty little elf, Elisa. I can't tell you the stuff I've done to people I don't like. I might get arrested.

    Love,
    Lola

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  17. i love your photos in this post so cute and i love the grinch!!!

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  18. LOL! This was great!!
    Now if it was me I would have immediately apologized and then launched right into the whole poop bomb story right there on the porch when she brought it up to explain why the diaper was on the porch...and mentioned that, since there was only one a day, that I obviously removed them...and that maybe I needed to get a trash can of some kind to set on my porch and did she have any ideas...and she would probably have found some reason to back away before I ever got that far. That's the truth as to how I react to things like that...archenemies or not. ;)

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  19. Oh my goodness Elisa! How do you keep finding people like this?!?!? WOW, I think I have to agree with your kids, she may very well be a Witch! Seriously to have the Gaul to knock on your door and tell you that ONE loan diaper is bringing down the property values? WOW! You know, I'm quite enjoying your solution.

    Maybe I should move into your neighborhood and live right next door and add my daily Diapers on the step! I do the same thing! If it is horridly stinky, I'll set it outside until I can find my shoes and get to the trash can.

    JadeLouise Designs

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  20. AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I do not think you are mean and terrible! I think you are AWESOME!
    People do need to mind their own business. IF she had been in the Christmas spirit, since she was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed enough to notice the diaper on the porch, she could have put it in the trash for you, assumed you were a busy hardworking mother, and never said a word to you.
    (The scribe and the hippie are cool!)
    Finally, a surefire way to get the Christmas spirit is to watch "A Christmas Story" on repeat. :-)

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  21. LOL, the comment above was from Rachel! I'm typing on a wireless keyboard annd I guess the and the L didn't go thrugh.

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  22. Have you ever tried being critical of her? I'm curious to see how she'd react to her own medicine as I've lived with someone similar to her before and the one time I was critical/voiced my concerns (we were friends at the time, after all), she snapped at me (in a note) to stay out of her life and her business.

    While I understand her concern/curiosity of the dirty diaper on the front porch, what I want to know is has it ever occurred to her to ask you WHY you put the diaper out like that? I'm sure the truth and the screaming kids behind you would be understandable. They would for me, anyway. This woman sounds like the kind who either doesn't have kids or sends her kids to boarding school in London and/or cotillion and etiquette classes. I doubt there's a spot of dirt in that house of hers!

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  23. oh no elisa! you can never be terrible:)
    wonderful story! Lol:D
    BTW merry christmas in advance:)

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  24. The visuals on the diaper bomb still has me smiling.

    You were kinder to Miss Priss than I would have been, and probably more effective. :o)

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  25. One tiny guy (and the poop that comes with it) is plenty. We used to have two huge cans of garbage a week - now that he's wearing underwear, we are down to one - that's a lot of diapers.

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  26. Oh, I can't stop laughing:)!! You are not terrible, and it is so hilarious that your kids immediately thought of the "Witches". That was a good movie. Maybe the next diaper should make it to the sidewalk "accidentally" where she happens to run? You could say the dog did it.

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  27. I don't think you're terrible at all. I think you're right, Miss Priss needs to be punched in her fake boob! I'm a professional butt wiper too, Elisa, so do not fret. You are never alone. Quite frankly, I can't go anywhere without smelling baby poo. I wipe butts all day long, and it's almost as if the smell has camped out in my nose hair and refuses to leave.

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  28. What will Miss Priss do next? She is bound to have an explosion or implosion someday.

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  29. Okay, I am so behind on posts! I just have to say I am proud of you! Good for you. Oooh, I don't like people like her. Flipping her a bird all the way from Dallas, TEXAS!!!!!

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  30. You managed to solve several problems at once with this process. One, the kids cleaned up the trash. Two, the kids didn't do other bad things because they were busy cleaning up the trash. Three, you poo-pooed (groan) Miss Prissy with the trash. Hooray for you!

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