What’s more festive than a dog in a hat? Nothing.
Happy Holidays from me to you. Be safe, be happy, and, if you have the opportunity, be with the people you love!
Since I know not all of you are participators in Christmas, here’s an alternate shot, too! Whatever you celebrate this season, I hope it’s fantastic.
Also, “You’re a Wizard, Harry!”
Posted by lexy3587 on December 24, 2011
http://goneforawalk.wordpress.com/2011/12/24/happy-holidays/
In my previous post, I mentioned that I do all my Christmas shopping online or months and months and MONTHS in advance of the holiday season. Yeah, I’m done my Christmas shopping, and have been since mid-November. You hate me, I’m ok with that.
How is it, though, that despite the fact that I’m done, I still found myself at the mall on December 21st?
I was doing good… in a kind of procrastinate-ey way. I was supporting the Toy Mountain campaign, and buying a gift for an infant. Last year, I had to buy something for a 13 year old girl… it was complicated! I was a weird 13 year old, but I’m still sure that their suggestion of a dolly (seriously, ‘a dolly’) would be the most disappointing gift a 13 year old girl could receive. This year, when I had the option of choosing my age-group, I jumped at the chance for getting a ‘newborn’ tag.
It’s a baby – how hard could it be?
In the jumbled chaos of the mall a few short days before Christmas? Kind of difficult.
When someone decided they should grab most of the dog-toy stock and scatter it around the kids’ toys shelves? And I really don’t know much about babies? Really HARD!
Doodle and I spent a good 40 minutes in the store, sorting through things, trying to find items with labels identifying them as ‘0+ months’, while playing the “is it a dog toy?” game if it doesn’t have an age-label.
“Awww, so cute – a plushy floppy rabbit! Let’s get this for the baby!”
*Squeeeeeeeeeeek*
“I thought babies liked things that rattled? Not squeaked?” checks tag. “It’s a dog toy.”
you saw the episode where he clicker-trained the toddler, right?
This was repeated over and over and over again. Doodle is particularly good at finding cute dog toys hidden amongst the pillow-pets (seriously, it’s a thing… talk about making stuffies utilitarian!), purse-teddies (think, empty teddy bear with purse-strap dressed in drag) and occasional regular stuffed animals.
Babies and dogs – they both put their toys in their mouths. They both drool. They both like random noises in toys. No-one wants a dog toy as a gift for their baby. It’s the same reasoning for why you shouldn’t clicker-train your neighbour’s kid.
I found some toys that fit that description.
Oh good! I was wondering why I hadn't gotten any gifts today. What do you mean, those aren't for me?
Gwynn likes them too. He was kind of disappointed that I wasn’t sharing them with him (at all… he didn’t get to touch them, I swear). I’m pretty sure that Christmas gifts shouldn’t come with the note please wash thoroughly before giving to baby.
I’m also pretty sure that when future-me has a baby, the dog will be more than happy to teach his new furless sibling how to shake-kill the squeaky toys Doodle will get for the baby.
Posted by lexy3587 on December 23, 2011
http://goneforawalk.wordpress.com/2011/12/23/babies-arent-puppies/
“The doorbell rang.”
“Are you sure? I didn’t hear anything. Maybe I should just…”
“No, Margie. The doorbell rang. Give them a minute to answer.”
Margaret frowned at her husband. With the big red plaid coat and thick white beard – and even that goofy Santa hat – Bill was considerably better dressed for the weather. She shivered and brushed her hands briskly up and down her burgundy coat.
The strains of ‘Deck the Halls’ drifted out from within the house.
The pitter patter of small feet came closer at high-speeds, and, with a squeal of maniacal laughter, one of their grandsons rammed full-tilt into the front door before running off.
Margaret rang the doorbell again.
Bill gave an impatient sigh, and tested the door knob.
With relief, they hurried inside. Exhausted from the drive, they settled down beside the merrily crackling fireplace without announcing themselves, and soon fell fast asleep.
“MOOOOM! Santa and Missus Santa are DEAD!!!”
Margaret and Bill snapped awake and stared in surprise at the shrill little girl.
From the kitchen, a woman yelled, “Suze, remember what I told you about lying? Santa doesn’t bring gifts to little girls who tell lies!”
“They’re ALIVE!” the little girl shrieked, delighted. “They’re Alive, they’re alive!”
Margaret and Bill exchanged horrified looks. They only had grandsons.
The woman who strode through the door was most certainly not their daughter.
Margaret asked, “1212 Partridge Street?”
“1212 Partridge TRAIL, actually,” the woman replied, pointing furiously towards the door, and Bill and Margaret beat a hasty retreat.
“Noooo!” the little girl wailed, “SANTA!”
“Santa has to go visit the other naughty children. You’d better clean up your act if you want any presents.”
Margaret turned to her husband. “The hat goes.”
As they drove away, snow began to fall.
***
This is my first attempt at contributing to the Write on Edge’s Red Writing Hood writing prompt. The prompt was to write a short piece beginning with The Doorbell Rang and ending with Snow began to fall that involves the holidays.
Posted by lexy3587 on December 9, 2011
http://goneforawalk.wordpress.com/2011/12/09/festive-intrusion/
