Christmas, crappity, crap, crap, crap

So I accomplished a lot today.  I bought two of the onehundredseventyfivethousandsixtysix gifts that I actually have to purchase this year, which only leaves me onehundredseventyfivethousandandsixtyfour to go.  Hip hip hooray for me!!  I'm not sure why I am having such a hard time coming up with absolutely ANYTHING to buy this year.

Ms Shelby is absolutely dying to procure a cell phone, unfortunately Secret Agent Man is hearing nothing of that, insisting that he didn't have a cell phone until he was well past legal age and post living in his parents abode.

Doesn't he realize that we have left the eighteenth century well behind us. Does he not see that I have to call Shelby on her FRIEND'S phone?  I actually get texts from Shelby's friends when we are in the mall.  I have all their numbers on speed dial hoping that they might actually BE with Shelby when she has gone missing. Only to find out she has switched teams and is now with the Brookster, and they are playing hide and seek IN THE MALL. Now I can remember spending time (i.e. wasting time and following boys) in this same mall when I was her age, and never once did we come up with the idea to play hide and seek in the freaking mall.  Seriously, just who does that??  Only people who have immediate, lightening fast access to one an other.  People with CELL PHONES.  Are you hearing this Secret Agent Man?  You are impeding your flesh and blood's ability to stay connected and text "all-y, all-y, all come free" at Gap?  Seriously, just let me get the cell phone so I can bring that number down to onehundredseventyfivethousandandsixtythree.

Then there is Mr T.  Mr T has decided that he might be satisfied with a go cart.  However, his choice in go cart's is one that has been officially clocked at acceleration speeds over 120 mph.  Now, as if that wasn't bad enough, he would like it have the ground clearance of a Bassett Hound.  This to ensure that none of the grown-up, tired people driving nonchalantly home after a hard day's work in their ever so large SUV's with a ground clearance that would swallow said go cart and "fruit of my loin" under their chassis without totally being aware, are actually NOT aware that their beast of a vehicle just swallowed my boy.  Mr T doesn't see this as a threat to his well being and insists I worry too much.

Of course there is also my sweet Leece.  Ms girl might just be satisfied if I wrapped up her sock drawer, but I'm guessing that would not get me any "mother-of-the-year" type awards come January 1. It is my Alyse that I would like to really nail, because she is not very verbal, yet still so animated. It makes my heart happy (and every one else who happens to be within hearing distance) when she adores something.  Lately she has been a bit obsessed with pictures of puppies.  While Secret Agent Man (who is a huge animal lover) might say yes to this little endeavor, I really would not like that proposition much at all, so nada to that one as well.

So if you see someone on a lightening fast, low riding go cart with a puppy nestled firmly in the Snuggli texting last minute orders to wally world for onehundredseventyfivethousandandsixty gift cards you should assume that I couldn't come up with anything better.