I wish for toothspit that didn’t run down my wrist when I brush my teeth– and all kinds of other impossible things! I thought we deserved a little saucy humor (Saucy, not racy. Click away, dear, click away.) to turn up the corners of our mouths this last Friday before Christmas!
I wish everyone I love, and everyone I’m learning to love (Boy, why are some lessons so long?), a wonderful Christmas! If you’re on Earth, then you’re worthy of being here. (At least, that’s what my counselor and Good Book told me, so I’m going with it…)
May your Christmas wishes come true.
Sleeves are the New Rags
I wish women’s clothes designers kept drooling toothspit, dirty dishes in sinks of dirty dishwater, and gas burners in mind when they designed their newest fashions. On second thought, maybe the designers are covertly mocking women. “If they want to do dishes, cook food, wipe off the table, or even brush teeth, let’s just put the rags on the sweater for them!” And we fell for it. And paid for it.
How Many TVs and Microwaves Do We Need in a Lifetime?
I wish when my microwave broke and I called to have it fixed, the salesman wouldn’t ask if I just wanted a new one. No. I don’t. I want my old one fixed. Imagine that. It’s easy if you try.
Is the Internet down? Or Is It My Head?
I wish the internet was just attached to my head. I pay bills on it. I sign up for the kids’ music and sports activities on it. I take continuing education courses on it. Coaches communicate with me on it. I renew licenses on it. I plan vacation on it. Then, if my head wasn’t working, I could just blame it on the internet service, which never seems to work at my house no matter the internet provider. 2019, anybody?
Keep the Microwave. Bomb the House.
After having kids, I do wish I had a disposable house. It was really pretty once. But I don’t know what that spot is. Or that one. Or this one. That one is green smoothie. (Kale is good for kids but not the carpet.) Those ten or so are black coffee. All my fault. I take the blame for those. Over there? Too embarrassing to say.
I don’t know what happened to that light fixture. Or that door handle. Or that window. Let’s not even talk about, much less look at–and definitely avoid sitting on–the couch.
Let’s just pack up the microwave and a few belongings and torch the place. “Bomb the house!” Picture us just escaping through the front door together as a family, with the blazing brightness of a house in flames silhouetting our narrow escape…
I have more. Oh boy, do I! I was just getting started. But this is all I have time for this Friday morning. I’ve got to go work on my lessons (remember back when I started, how I mentioned some lessons were really long–and hard?!). And see if my slouchy sweater unravels when I cut the sleeves off. I mean, I have WORK to do! I might try holding my toothbrush at a new angle today, too. And the house…
Have a wonderful Christmas. I love life, and I love finding ways to appreciate and learn from everything it sends me. That is my Christmas wish for you. That you can learn to embrace life and find ways out of the burning house. There are ways. There are beautiful things and beautiful people everywhere. You do not have to stay stuck.
Merry Christmas Terry – you started off my day with a smile!
Yay! Good! I’m happy!
I wish everything in my house was wireless. So what if the EMF fries my brain? Can’t be any worse than trying to figure out which wire goes to the satellite dish and which one goes to the computer.
Speaking of wires, right now I have a long Slinky-like wire running through my back yard providing me with my current internet service. When I switched to them last month, the new company said it was too frozen to bury the wire. I just know some bunny is going to nibble on it like he or she did to my Christmas lights last year. Then, there goes my internet! Again. Wires! Pft.
May you have an EMF-repelling force field in 2019 to protect your brain from EMF fries.
Oh man, Terri, that was sooo funny because it was sooo relatable!!
But I really want to know what happened to that door handle. One of them will confess, a decade from now .. (trust me, they do that. About stuff you didn’t *want* to know about too!).
Happy Winter Solstice!
Good! Thank you!
The door handle. Probably some Barbie prop now! Or outside in a fairy house as a fairy table. I’ll just wait till they’re all grown and see what I can patch back together.
I don’t know if I want to know “stuff!!” Agh!
Merry Christmas to you!
And to you!