I hate holidays.
A recap of my four days off on Thanksgiving weekend.
1) Conversation at the dinner table included, but was not limited to, improving the sex life between me and my wife.
Completely appropriate for a holiday feast.
This took a tragic turn as one of our guests told me that I need to tell my wife every day that, and I quote, "ACHE FOR HER."
Always a great topic when you're sharing the table with your in-laws.
2) Guests telling me how funny I am.
"Oh, Rodney..he's so funny."
"Rod..your Facebook updates are HILARIOUS."
"Make sweet love to me, funny man."
Sometimes, I wish auntie would just stay home.
This took an interesting turn as they all started asking my wife if I'm always like this and how she deals with the fact that I'm funny.
To that question, here's how she deals:
Wife: "After 20 years, it stops being funny."
Me: "But see? Everyone else thinks I'm funny..so I must be funny."
Wife: "Listen..they can love you. It doesn't mean that I have to."
3) Putting up the tree
"Black Friday" (also known as 'African American Friday' in the States and 'Boxing Day' in Canada) is the day we put up our Christmas tree.
I pull the three sections of the tree out of the box.
I snap the sections together.
I fold the branches down.
At this point, my son looks at me and says:
Son: "Dad, is this a real tree?"
We need to stop buying his toys from China.
4) Getting the Belt
Saturday was my karate test to get my purple belt.
One section of this test consisted of being pummeled by a stick covered by a large foam pad.
As the sensei whacked at us with his stick from all different angles (that's what she said) we'd have to block it with our arms.
The foam covering kept coming off the stick he was holding...causing him to stop every 5 seconds and put it back on.
So, the sensei decided to just take it off permanently...
...and just whacked us with the plain wooden stick instead.
This feels great.
Thank you, sensei.
Because, you know, my Saturday isn't complete without a goddamn compound fracture.
But, yeah. I got the belt.
Five feet of fury, baby.
Five feet of fury.
5) The Christmas Parade
On Sunday was the town's Christmas parade.
I hate this fucking thing.
Because, you know, nothing says 'Happy Holidays' more than watching an elderly pedophile ride slowly by on a tractor followed by a float from SuperCuts.
My favorite part was when the Knights of Columbus float came by.
Son: "What? Columbus didn't have knights."
I'll let him continue playing with the Chinese toys.
Anyway, these old guys are all dressed up in, like, tuxes and shit with bright red capes.
Me: "Oooh..guys, look! VAMPIRES!"
Son: "Those aren't vampires. They have fuzzy heads."
Me: "That's to keep out the sunlight. Otherwise they wouldn't be out right now."
Then...their float came by:
A big boat with three K of C Knights on it.
Me: "GUYS! GUYS! PIRATE vampires!!"
I told the kids to wave to the pirate vampires but they wouldn't.
I would have, but this compound fracture was fucking killing me.