Well it’s the most wonderful time of the year when all columnists roll out the ol’ “All I Want for Christmas” column. It rivals only the “What I’m Thankful For …” Thanksgiving offering in overused holiday writing structures/crutches. But alas, it allows us to complain about things while also being festive, so it’s a win-win. Hence the overuse. So without further ado, I present to you The 2014 Hidden Agenda AIWFC column. It’s a fast read, as I know we all have the last Anna-s and Elsa-s and Skylanders to go snatch out of the hands of people at Toys R Us. Muhahahahhaha! I mean Merry Christmas!

Wait, where was I? Oh yeah.

All I Want For Christmas is…

My first request is for the writers of mall jewelry store television ads to stop making the douchiest Christmas commercials ever conceived. I really want to break the wrists of the woman who “speaks Pandora” because she can see all the charms on the woman’s bracelet across the room and tell her life story. And her husband is so impressed by her fluency in this “language.” Wow, you are able to deduce she went to Paris because she has an Eiffel Tower charm and she is a soccer mom because she has a ball on her bracelet. Whoa! Move over Sherlock Holmes! There’s a new charm bracelet detective in town!

I have yet to have a single kiss “begin with Kay” and if “he went to Jared,” we’re going to have problems, as I don’t think there is a “galleria of jewelry” within a 100- mile radius. And please tacky mall jewelry stores, stop making diamonds that sound more like dessert than precious gemstones. I want to wear them not put them on ice cream.

My second request is for people to get off the backs of parents who actually enjoy doing “Elf on the Shelf” for their kids. Sure, I get it. I feel inadequate too (and slightly disturbed) when I see elaborate set ups of the Elf pooping Hershey’s chocolate kisses or “fishing” in the toilet bowl. But I swear the disdain the non-Elfers have for the over-achieving Elfers is way more annoying than the overzealous elf staging itself. (Now, there’s a sentence I never thought I would write.)

Cut the Elf parents some slack.

Cut the Elf parents some slack.

The vitriol I see spewed all over Facebook for these people is ridiculous. If they want to build the Taj Mahal out of mini-marshmallows, so be it! That’s their time and business. No one is forcing you to do the same. If you don’t like seeing the photos of their masterpieces, then the “UNFOLLOW” button is your new best friend. I use it all the time for the passive aggressive “I wish some people would…” posters, over-selfiers, over-the-top college football smack talkers and extremist political article sharers. I’m sure I’m un-followed for being a kid pic over-poster. (Not to be confused with a Kid Rock pic over-poster). And that’s OK. To each their own social media.

But Elfing really doesn’t have to involve so much rage, y’all. For real.

We usually just throw ours in various kitchen appliances.

“Uh oh. I hope Kernel didn’t eat that yogurt that expired two months ago.”

“Kernel, must have needed a bath. That stinky elf is in the dishwasher for the third time this week!”
“Oh no, Kernel must have gotten cold last night. He’s balled up in the stove.”

Or the most important…

“Kernel didn’t go anywhere last night? I guess he must be planning a day trip while you’re at school. Santa’s schedule is so crazy this time of year, so that totally makes sense.”

Giggles achieved. Magic believed. No fuss, no muss. Done and Done.

(Yeah, yeah, yeah I know. I was talking about breaking the poor Pandora lady’s wrists. And to be clear, it’s not the lovely bracelets I’m hating on, just the cheesy ads. But how is that any different than hating on the Elf haters, you ask? I don’t know. Doesn’t everyone hate those commercials? But point taken. I’ll just hit the mute button and shut my pie hole when she figures out the woman across the room plays tennis because she has a racquet charm. Elementary my dear Pandora lady! Elementary!)

My third request is just to get ONE photo — just ONE — of my two children in front of our Christmas tree with both of them smiling and looking at the camera with their eyes open, while not making weird faces and/or squinting and/or having snot running out of their noses and/or crying or scratching or complaining or untucking their shirts or pulling their socks and/or shoes off. Because we just need ONE photo to put on our stupid Christmas card to send out season’s freaking greetings to all of our bleeping friends and family.

Can’t y’all just help a mama out? GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!! Look at the camera!!! Stop touching each other!! Put your bow back in!!!!! Don’t pull the ornaments off the tree!!! Kernel is watching and is going to stick his head in the oven tonight, you little …….. (angels)! (Editor’s Note: The last word of the previous sentence was edited to make it more appropriate for a holiday column.) Why must this require a Christmas miracle? I feel for you folks with three or more … (angels).

My final wish is to remember the only thing that matters is that absolutely none of this matters. If our Christmas card isn’t perfect and if our elf doesn’t magically poop Le Vian chocolate diamonds from Jared (though we’re not judging the Elves who do), we have each other and there is so much love and laughter and happiness and yes, absolute chaos (of the best kind) stuffed in our house and that’s truly all I have ever really wanted for Christmas. Or any other time, for that matter.

Merry Christmas, y’all!