I’m so not in the mood for Christmas this year. I feel like I say that every year and you’d think with kids, I’d be all YAY CHRISTMAS. But come on, babies don’t care, and the Mini’s sensory issues don’t really lend to him really digging presents, and he gets overwhelmed with them really easily. On top of being a toddler. A day spent getting 8,000 new toys is sensory enough for even the most “normal” of toddlers.
I got most of my shopping done, save for one person. My father. My father is a bit of an odd duck. First of all, he’s one of those people that will go out weeks before Christmas and buy himself everything he’s ever wanted, leaving the rest of us to stand in front of the #4 bus that he just threw us under. Let’s all thank your father, kids.
So I asked my mother what he wanted for Christmas, and the answer? ’A nightgown. ”
“A fucking nightgown? Like, one of those flannel numbers that old ladies wear, with the pretty flowers? Or like, one of those big over-sized t-shirts with funny expressions on them, like “who farted?” or two reindeer humping?”
“No, like one of those long sleeve cotton numbers like Dickens wore in A Christmas Carol. ”
“Does he want the stocking cap to go with it?”
“No, but make sure it’s long enough to cover everything up. We’re old now and anything he’s got to show off is not attractive.”
I shit you not, my mother actually said that.
So I look high and low for a man’s nightgown and surprise surprise, they are nearly impossible to find. My father is a rare breed, I will tell you that.
So far, here are my ideas:
A golf shirt (too bad they didn’t make one with an embroidered piece of bacon on the pocket).