On Christmas Stockings
Last year, I pitched a little tanty in Target. I was buying all this crap for everyone else in the universe and I just got pissed. I said, “Self, why don’t you grab everything you like and put it in your stocking this year? Since you know the mister isn’t going to?”
The only person who puts stuff in my stocking is my mother. And last year we weren’t doing Christmas Eve with her.
So I bought all this junk: new slippers, a pack of coconut M&M’s, a set of rollerball pens, a bunch of lip glosses. Then I stuffed it into my stocking and Christmas morning was all pleased and surprised about how good of a girl I’d been.
Then my friend Danielle told me that she and her husband have been doing this stocking self-service move for years. Think of all the splurge I’ve missed out on!
This year, I’m helping myself to the following:
Rob Thomas’ Rats Saw God
Paul Griffin’s Stay With Me
Jennifer Hubbard’s The Secret Year
Daria Snadowsky’s Anatomy of a Boyfriend
one Dillon Lions t-shirt
one clip-on reading lamp for bed time (you’re welcome, Adrian)
Maybe more stuff, too. I believe I’ve been very good this year.