(Part of the Humor Bloggers Christmas Carnival)
I'd pretty much pooh-poohed all the paranoid blather about 2012 being the End of the World As We Know It...
Until this morning. Because I do believe I saw evidence we're headed that way.
I was flipping channels, enjoying my beloved morning java, and there on my television screen was Martha Stewart and Snoop-Dogg, making holiday brownies together in jarring, surreal camaraderie-- and rapping about it.
Martha Stewart. Rapping.
This alone may be proof that something decidedly strange is up with the Universe.
For me, however, all else remains per the holiday norm. For instance, the Annual Christmas Self-Crippling is well underway.
Yes, nothing suggests a festive holiday like spending it twisted and hobbled like a cross-dressing Tiny Tim with a gland disorder!
I'm not sure why exactly, but every year at this time, I feel compelled to spread Holiday Perfection to all corners of my home-- and apparently mostly those that require ladders and Twister-like contortionist skillz to reach them.
The fact is, my father will be the main person to see this Winter Wonderland of Interior Excess.
And this is a man whose feels he's really home-cooked when nuking instructions exceed three minutes...
A fellow whose most-used dishes come on a roll labeled "Brawny."
There really isn't a lot of pressure here.
Christmas won't skip to next door just because one wayward dust bunny isn't wearing a Santa hat.
Ebeneezer Scrooge won't humbug for all eternity if I don't get the Dickens Village set up this year.
The world will not end if the sugarplums are not moshing away in La-La Land.
If anything, the world ends when Snoop-Dogg starts telling us how to get the perfect glaze on the ham we smoked in our own smokehouse.
The gig is over when Martha starts her program with "Yo, yo, yo, peeps! S to the A to the N-T-A!"
But alas, I still find myself thinking-- if I could only uncover some way to wrap festive holiday lights around the electric heating pad I will be strapped to for the next five days, I could truly multitask.
Some things never change, I suppose.
Hail to your mommas.