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This year Mom woke me up early (read: noon) because she was eager to open her Christmas presents. She actually shouted that I needed to wake up and see what Santa Claus brought me. Then she tossed a small bag of coal in my bed. Bah, humbug!

I gave Mom a coffee press. She gave me a VR headset that turned my smartphone into a migraine-inducing nightmare machine. Together, we had a great time. I can't wait to do it all again next year.

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For no good reason, I bought a Wilton gingerbread house kit from Michaels earlier this month with the plan that Mom and I would build it together. That plan was somewhat spoiled when my father interrupted our house raising. (He needed tech support for the Kindle I bought him last Christmas that he just now decided to activate for the first time.) Mom went to bed while I was on the phone, and I finished our house without her.

We went shopping for a do-over replacement kit, but Michaels was sold out. Rather than give up, I doubled down. I found a recipe and made enough gingerbread for two more houses, one for Mom to decorate and one for me. (No tech support call could defeat this plan!)

Click photo to embiggen.

In the photo above, the shared kit house is on the left with the rainbow roof. Mom's greenhouse is in the middle. My sloppy icicle house is on the right.

For my standalone house, I decided I was only going to use candy accessories that I would eat. Turns out, I don't like the taste of rainbows. Who knew?

Though I'm reasonably satisfied with the final results, the best part wasn't decorating but baking the gingerbread. (The house smelled so good!) Therefore, next year I think we'll just decorate homemade gingerbread men. And we'll turn off our cellphones, just in case.

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The spirit raised a frightful cry, and shook its chain with such a dismal and appalling noise, that Scrooge held on tight to his chair, to save himself from falling in a swoon. But how much greater was his horror, when the phantom taking off the bandage round its head, as if it were too warm to wear indoors, its lower jaw dropped down upon its breast!

Scrooge fell upon his knees, and clasped his hands before his face. "Mercy!" he said. "Dreadful apparition, why do you trouble me?"

"Man of the worldly mind!" replied the Ghost, "do you believe in me or not?"

"I do," said Scrooge.

"I don't," said Velma, drawing aside the curtain to reveal herself and her friends. "Now, Fred!"

A lasso of rope fell over the Ghost's shoulders, squeezing its arms against its sides. "Let me free!" it demanded.

"What kind of ghost can be caught with a rope?" asked Daphne.

"This is no ghost," said Velma. She placed her hand on the captive spirit's head, and with a quick jerk, pulled off its mask to reveal an unexpected visage that Scrooge recognized immediately.

"Bob Cratchit!" he cried. "My clerk? But why? How?"

"Mr. Cratchit was jealous of your wealth," explained Fred. "His plan was to feed you spicy pepperoni pizzas for dinner so that you would have bad dreams he could influence with these fake hauntings."

"Once you were scared enough, he was going to talk you into giving your entire fortune to charity," added Velma.

"I would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for you meddling kids!" said Bob.

"And me," said Scooby-Doo.

"Like, those pizzas were delicious, weren't they, Scoob?" said Shaggy, rubbing his dog on the head.

Scooby licked his lips. "Dee-ricious!"

"Thank 'ee," said Scrooge. "I am much obliged to you. I thank you fifty times. Bless you!"

"Does this mean we can count on you to make a donation to our Christmas fund?" Daphne asked hopefully.

"Bah!" said Scrooge, "Humbug!"

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Spotted at Kroger: The Christmas Tree Funnel.

Because even Christmas trees want to do keg stands at frat parties.

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You may recall that on Thanksgiving, I stepped on and broke July's toenail. That led to emergency surgery the following week to remove the nail. I challenged Christmas to bring me something worse. Me and my big mouth.

Following surgery, July's toe hasn't healed well. It has swollen to roughly the size of a pinball. When the doctor tells you that the best case scenario is a "very bad infection," you know you've got trouble.

So far, she's seen two different vets and been given three different antibiotics. A cutting from the original surgery has been sent to the lab for a biopsy in case there is an underlying tumor. The results of that test and her response to the antibiotics will determine whether she needs another surgery to remove more of the toe. Whether any of that happens before 2016 is still kind of up in the air. Victoria's biopsy this summer took 2 weeks, and that was when no one was on holiday.

Vet bills for the past 30 days come to $672 and counting. I've spent all my holiday money on July, and I can't even say she's enjoying it. On the up-side, there's more room in your stocking for goodies after you start cutting your toes off.

Congratulations, Christmas, for rising to the challenge I set for you. You're on deck, New Year's. Bring it on.

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Mom wanted glass marbles for a vase. She looked at several stores but was having no luck. At her wit's end, she dragged me to Hobby Lobby.

I haven't been in a Hobby Lobby for years. I've always preferred Michael's, partly because I was long ago brand-brainwashed when Michael's was my only local option and partly because I don't generally shop at stores whose idea of impulse-buy items are bibles. What kid fidgeting in line at the checkout cries, "I wanna 'nother bible"?

Of course, I've been especially dissatisfied with Hobby Lobby since it insisted in demanding the benefits of religious organizations while maintaining its for-profit status. The Supreme Court may have decided that's legal, but it's not cool. Since I disagree with Hobby Lobby's bible-based decision against contraception, I exercise my constitutional right to not give them any of my money.

So when Mom said we were going to Hobby Lobby, I renewed my resolution to keep my wallet shut. From that lead in, you know that no sooner had I walked into Hobby Lobby than I found myself Tempted By The Devil. Right by the front door was a display of metal Batman key fobs. I've had the same metal Batman key fob (purchased from the now-defunct Warner Brothers Store) attached to my Jeep key since 1999, and it's a little worse for wear. Now here, in a Hobby Lobby, was the chance to replace it for only $5.99 and a small piece of my soul!

In the end, I kept my soul (and my $5.99). But if anyone without ethics is looking for a something to buy Walter for Christmas, I know a place.

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That blurry picture is my neighbor's house. If you can't tell, that's a Christmas Tree in the window. I post it because this isn't last year's picture. It was taken the day after Halloween!

Last week also saw the release of the annual Christmas issue of Coweta County Magazine. Home Depot has replaced it's bird seed with artificial tinsels. I can't watch a football game without seeing Black Friday advertisements.

When I was a child, it seemed like Christmas would never get here. The entire month of December was spent waiting for Santa's visit. How hellish must the holiday be for today's children who are taunted by visions of sugarplums before they've opened their first piece of Halloween candy?

Christmas has become the bully of holidays, stealing two months from autumn to become the fifth season of the year and demanding that Thanksgiving surrender its milk money. Fuck you, Christmas. Fuck you and the sleigh you rode in on.

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