Christmas in the smart-ass house

I intended to ignore Christmas. I told my partner I wasn't looking forward to the Big Day. I made him promise not to buy me a gift. I even asked him on Christmas Eve if he had bought me anything. And he said no. Liar.

A couple of weeks ago we went to see the Hunger Games, and I got all worked up over the terrible advert for NERF Rebelle. Basically generic NERF toys made 'girly'. Take three guesses what I got for Christmas.

That is the Nerf Rebelle Diamondista Blaster. Not only ignoring my request to not exchange gifts, he bought me something I had actively whinged about. Smart-ass.

Why I'm not excited about Christmas

Last week I was Scrooge McDuck (the evil one from the early cartoons, not the endearing rich uncle he was re-drawn as later) and this week I'm going to be the Grinch. I'm not excited for Christmas. I don't give a toss about tinsel, I'm not excited for Santa, and I didn't watch the pageant.

How The Grinch Stole Christmas - 2000



To be fair, I wasn't always like this. Even though I knew Santa was a myth from about seven (my parents hid my gifts in my cupboard, but labelled them from Santa, I caught on) I used to love Christmas. Let me paint you a picture of my childhood Christmases.