Day 16: Being A Dad on Christmas

 Things sure have changed since Minion #1 came barreling down the sperm slide and Christmas is no different.  Before we had the Minions things were different (duh), Christmas was about us.  We would have a nice quiet Christmas Eve, watching a movie or two and enjoying each others company, if you know what I mean....you don't know what I mean?  Got tinsel stuck in places we didn't know tinsel could get stuck.  Made the sound activated lights go on and off.  Get it?  We defiled the Christmas tree skirt on Christmas Eve, OK?

Then on Christmas morning we would go to my parent's house and open presents there, my half sister would come over with her family and we would have dinner and open more presents.  Looking back it was a pretty good time...and I miss it.  But all of that changed a little over nine years ago...

Thanks guys...it's...great.

Being a Dad on Christmas is different and took some adjusting to.  I still get cool gifts like my Star Wars Legos and I don't get the stereotypical tie, sweater or underwear (which actually, if you're reading this Trophy, I need underwear) but it's different now, it's more about the Minions, which after Friday's tragedy, is a good thing.

It starts on my way home from work a day or two prior to Christmas Eve.  I inevitably get a phone call or text from The Trophy to pick up "such and such" at the grocery store....great, going to the grocery store a day or two before Christmas is like, well, going to the grocery store the day before Thanksgiving, it's suicide.  Without fail, the item she wants me to get is Christmas related.

"Can you pick up some eggnog?" or "I need gingerbread cookies for the pie." or "You know what would be good tonight?  A yule log."  And I do it because I love her.  I head into the grocery and shove my way through to crowd of last minute dumbasses (Christmas happens the same day every year, just like Thanksgiving...fucking prepare for it!) and find the last carton of eggnog, the crushed package of gingerbread cookies and the yule log...did you know that a yule log is meant to be eaten nowadays?  I didn't, so I brought home a wooden log, which I thought was odd seeing we don't have a fire place.

As a Dad at Christmas it's my job to fend the Minions away from the secret present hiding place (A.K.A. our bedroom).  I feel like an NHL goalie.  Stomp, stomp, stomp (good thing the Minions are not graceful).  I open the door a little bit like the mean munchkin from the Wizard of Oz, to see what they want and promptly shove my foot out the door to keep them at bay.

Also my duty is to make sure the milk, cookies and carrots are left out for the Fat Man from the North Pole and his beasts.  Part of this duty is to eat whatever cookie the Minions decide to leave for him and drink the, by that time, warm milk and nibble the carrots.  I also have to use my best Santa handwriting and leave a thank you note.  You might be thinking this is easy, but my Minions are miniature Magnum PI's, they will notice the smallest little detail if it's wrong.  I need to leave just enough crumbs and part of a cookie from Santa because he could never possibly eat ALL of the cookies the other kids give him.  I also have to leave the carrots with chew marks in them, do you know how hard it is to model reindeer chew marks?  I've got it down to a science now.  I also have to drink the entire glass of milk, Santa is thirsty after all and it's ALWAYS milk, I've suggested other beverages for him, eggnog, soda, a coffee, beer, but the Minions swear by milk.

Another Dad duty that most of us don't even know we signed up to do is to not know what the Minions are getting for Christmas.  I know The Trophy tells me what they are getting and I even watch her wrapping the presents but damned if I know what they get so I'm just as surprised as they are on Christmas morning.

"Look Dad!  I got a Wampa Skin Rug and #2 got a Tauntaun Sleeping Bag

"Oh, holy crap!  Yeah you did, that's right!"

By the way, we do have a Wampa Skin Rug AND a Tauntaun Sleeping Bag...any doubters now bitches?

The Trophy in a golden bikini laying on the Wampa Rug?  Yes please!

And I thought they smelled bad...on the outside.

The most important job that I have as a Dad at Christmas is enjoying the excitement of the Minions and spending the day with my family.  I get to sit on the couch in my robe and slippers, drinking coffee at 5:30 AM while The Trophy chases the Minions around with the camera, taking pictures we will never see again.

You know what, I wouldn't change it for the world.

Unbelievable!  Gonads was resurrected after the puree incident.  We received a Christmas Card in the mail full of stripper dust and that must have signaled to Gonads to hit the tit-pit this time.

Oh yeah, I'm submitting this to Dude Write this week because nothing screams Christmas like a bunch of Dude bloggers competing for a prize!  Go check it out, read the awesome blogs and them come back Monday to vote!