Aw, so you’re wondering where the word ‘sleepyface’ comes from. HA. Well, that was my husband and I during the early years of our marriage and our first attempts at playing “SANTA” for our two little ones. Naturally, I have tons of Christmas memories but the one that stands out in my mind and gives me plenty of eyerolling moments is the year my son wanted lots of Ghostbusters stuff from the Big Guy. Yes, I realize I’m seriously dating myself. As an empty-nester, I soooo miss those early years of setting out cookies and hot chocolate for Santa, sneaking around hiding presents, and the eventual assembly thing.
Well, maybe I’m not missing the ‘assembly thing’ so much.
That particular Christmas Eve, after family had left and our kiddos were in bed we mentally rub our hands together and get down to the business of playing Santa. Our little girl was easy that year. No assembly required. Then we get to our son. Whew boy! The Ghostbusters ‘hearse’, action figures, etc. were a snap. Everything was rockin’ and rollin’ until we got to the damn Ghostbusters firehouse. Don’t know if you remember it from the movie but it was a renovated firehouse (two stories) complete with a pole so the Ghostbusters guys could rush out to nab the paranormal critters. We knew we were in big, big trouble when we open the box and find not only a gazillion plastic pieces but a roll of stickers that could lead all the way to China AND BACK. Lordy! I think there were probably 500 stickers that had co-ordinating numbers to show you where to apply them on the house. Our eyes got HUGE. We were already exhausted of course because like a couple of dumbasses, we’d saved this for last. As I recall, sticker number 289 was an itsy bitsy doorknob that wouldn’t fit on the paw of a mouse. Before all was said and done, we were snapping at each other, positively freaked at the sheer time-consuming nature of this project.
So finally we get the damn thing done. It looked cute. The stickers were all in place and it was just a bit after 2:30 am. I apologized for being bitchy. He apologizes for being an irrational grumpy-head and we stumble off to bed only to be awakened at four am by our wide-eyed sprites. Four AM???? Seriously??? What could we do in the face of all this excitement? I stumbled out of bed and put on a pot of very strong coffee while our urchins played with the stuff. My husband and I were troopers and not about to spoil Christmas morning by sending them back to bed where they belonged. Nope. We stumbled through the rest of that day and I recall now that we took long naps the second our company headed out the door after Christmas dinner. Kind of reminded me of finals week in college. Yeah, that bad!
The moral of this little Christmas tale? When ToysRUs offers a $25 assembly fee, don’t be proud. Don’t say…aww, I can do THIS. Believe me. You are only fooling yourself. Pay the bucks. Save yourself some grief. Get a good nights’ sleep knowing that the price of a pleasant Christmas is a mere pittance in comparison to an all-night assembly fest.
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