That song is one of the most irritating holiday songs ever penned. You're welcome. I know you wanted an earworm for Christmas.
Here's what I got:
-Ironman. You knew it. I knew it. There was not a way that this movie was not turning up. It was one movie that surprised me with its goodness this year; everything else was more or less exactly what I expected. I still feigned surprise, and Cap'n Jack saw right through me.
-New knives. They are lovely, but I only use three of the ones I have already with any regularity. I think these will not be used half as much as the giver intended. I apologize.
-A sparkly purple box. I asked what was intended to go inside it, and HRH replied, "Your THINGS." Oh. Sorry. How could I have asked such a ridiculous question?
-A sweet, meandering conversation with the man I hesitate to put a label on. It was not long enough by half, but it went a long way to luring the proverbial lemur into the light. It also made me long for his face and his hand to hold, but I will take whatever crumbs the universe tosses me at this point.
- A rousing game of Zombie Beauty Shop. This consists of sitting in a tiny purple playhouse, training a fake hairdryer on a ridiculous toy purse-dog, and alternatively shouting, "BRAAAAAINSSSS!" and attempting to lick the wriggling child opposite you. It is the best game ever invented, especially if it makes your eldest child shriek, "Quit staring at my forehead! You're freaking me out!"
I hope you got the things you wanted the most off your list, and I hope that you had your own Zombie Beauty Shop moment. Someday, your loved ones will be able to look back and say, "We're not sure why we love you so much. You are a sick individual." And that is the best present you can get.