Whoever told Hillary that she'd look good in white ruffles was wrong.
I'm over the sinus infection. But alas, a bug hit yesterday. I didn't know the headache was leading into a tummy bug. I know the antibiotics are the culprit in robbing me of a healthy tummy (and I countered them with proboscis like crazy) and allowed this thing to settle in. What's a girl to do? Keep slogging down the "frog juice." I will beat this thing. Yes! Tomorrow is another day!!! Tonight, I sleep...
School has officially begun at our house and we were all smiles ( with a few tears from mom). Praying for an amazing year. For the first time in 5 years , I will not be doing childcare anymore. Starting Monday the kids will have me to themselves! WOOT WOOT!!!
IF YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW what’s going on with Sherry Dunhurst, a self proclaimed “post modern” mom that is raising a pair of “tweener” kids on her own, don’t bother asking her in person. Just log on to her Facebook page as well as her blog, and she will rant and rave about anything she can think of, no matter how trivial or annoying it may read.
Ever since she left her common law husband Ryan a few years before due to what a divorce attorney would state as an act of “Irreconcilable Differences” (legal speak for “We Just Don’t Get Along”), Sherry packed up her two kids, Taylor and Hunter, aged 12 and 10 respectfully, and moved from the homestead she and Ryan was attempting to pay off and moved into a 850 square foot apartment-like condo unit located near the edge of town. This place, along with a collection of homes, was built in the latter half of the 1990s when McMansions, gated communities, and housing tracks featuring dwellings and other structures that resembles one another were all of the rage. The location Sherry was living in was just a few years before a humble apple orchard complete with rows upon rows of apple and various fruit trees and foliage. During harvest time, the orchard land owners would offer “pick ‘em by the bag” days, where folks around the area can come over to pick as many apples or other fruits in season off the trees, bushes and vines. The place even maintained a small fruit stand where one can get bags of the same fruit if they didn’t care to pick them on their own. And of course, there were jars of homemade jams, jellies, and sauces available, just as fresh and hardy as the orchards could provide.
One day, the owners of the property were offered a sweetheart deal by some big land development mega company to buy the land and the orchard that sat upon it. The company bigwigs told the owners that not only they would receive top dollar on the land, but the company promised they would keep the orchard intact, still offing those awaited “U-Pick-’Em” fruit deals as well as the tasty jams and jellies. Seeing that this would become the offer of the year (if not the offer for the new millennium), the owners signed the stacks upon stacks of legal documents (as much as signing each document six time over) to complete the sale. Within days of the signings (or was it hours after the fact?) the company bulldozers cane in and uprooted all of the trees and anything else standing on the property grounds, including the wooden fruit stand, a roadside attraction that was built in 1946! Within a week’s time, massive construction machinery arrived and began to dig, excavate, shovel, and overall change the landscape in order to build at least 1000+ buildings and structures and would become a massive housing development offering living spaces from a four story apartment-type building to starter homes, middle sized houses, bigger domiciles, and those ever lovin’ “McMansions” where one can live like a king, queen, movie mogul, or anyone that has a rather fat stock portfolio. Each section was linked to a series of pre planned roadways where anyone with a car or other motor vehicle such as an SUV (the preferred method of transportation), can get to one place or another among the housing tracks. Not counting the many gated community subdivisions that dotted the area, everything available was all accessible by car, courtesy of the development company. (One can walk to one place to another if they wanted, but it would be a very long and rather difficult walk!!) Once everything was built, the sale campaign began in full force! Folks from all walks of life, from fresh out of college 20something singles, new starter families, established families, and event empty nesters, were wooed into getting a piece of the American dream by the development firm; A place to live that one could call your own! With little to no money down, as well as easy financing (thanks again to the development company’s own finance company with offices right on the premises), one can grab this dream at affordable prices with 0% down OAC. And if one was concerned about a low FICO score, the finance company was there to assist! After all, within ten years or so, according to the agents telling these buyers to be, these properties would be worth as much as 40% more as it stood when the 21st century started to kick in! This would become the deal of the century, even if that century was just beginning to get its own act together!
WHILE ALL OF THESE REAL ESTATE antics were going on, Sherry was beginning to start her first “real” job as a clerk at the Stowaway Travel Agency, a small storefront business that has been around since the time when many of the airlines were converting their fleet from propellor plains to newfangled jets. Sherry, right after her graduation from Hillcrest High School (ranked 456 out of 589 grads), began her higher educational studies at Thirteenth Grade Community College where she planed to become a philosophy major She always admired those deep thinker of thoughts that were always quoted within those woman’s magazines that she always read. Her mom Abigail weaned Sherry on such titles as Woman’s Day, Family Circle, McCall’s, and other publications that were geared toward the budding housewife. Many times, these same rags would place some bit of advice quoted from some deep thinker person, such as “Where ever you are, you will be there”, accreted to Wilheim Hepshizta, or by some other name that Sherry never heard of! She was so intrigued by those deep thoughts, she wanted to learn how to write deeper thoughts so she could be quoted in a future issue of Good Housekeeping.
While enrolled in a class called “The Rise And Fall of the Oppressed Thinkers of 17th Century Romania”, she met Ryan Filmeen, a “professional” student that was enrolled at the college for seven or eight years. He was still an undeclared undergraduate, hoping to obtain a general degree. As Sherry saw him one morning as she was entering the classroom before the start of that day’s lecture “The Filtered Principles of Ambrose The Loony”, she saw Ryan slumped at his desk. It seemed that he was taking a long winter’s nap (even in the springtime), while collapsed upon his desk. His upper part was slammed upon the desktop while his lower half had his legs curled around the chair legs, holding him up from collapsing onto the floor in a heap.
Sherry was concerned at first that she would be in a classroom with a near-dying student. So in order to become a heroine for the hour, Sherry nudged this man, giving him a poke with her index finger on the side near him right arm.
“Hey! You OK?” she asked this passed out man, hoping that he wasn’t already dead and then would have to file a lot of law enforcement paperwork.
Upon hearing the “..OK?” part, Ryan sprang up, staring into space while blinking his eyes rapidly due to the bight florescent lights that illuminated the classroom.
“Huh? What? No, I meant to do that!” he replied, apparently answering a question that had been asked by him some days before.
“Really! Are you all right?” Sherry asked him again.
Ryan turned toward Sherry. He appeared to be rather ragged looking. His hair was uncombed, his Polo-type shirt with the logo of the University of Miami stitched on the upper right hand side of the chest area right next to a reddish blotch that resembled the profile of Alfred Hitchcock (Pizza stain? Ketchup? Blood?), added to his mess! His breath wasn’t exactly kissing sweet, either!
Before Sherry could respond to this now awakened soul, he extended his (dirty) hand to her and smiled, speaking as he was wide awake all this time, “I’m Ryan Filmeen! Who the hell are you?”
This little “meet cute” episode began a long relationship between Ryan and Sherry. After dropping out of college for both of these two, they decided to shack up with one another. They rented a cold water flat that didn’t have any running water (cold or otherwise) in a rather seedy part of town. Sherry just got her job at the travel agency, while Ryan too got odd jobs that he found out about on flyers posted on lamp posts, complete with those “take one” tear off slips of paper with a phone number written upon it. Ryan and Sherry became a couple rather fast, making a domestic home life that those within their caliber could muster up; Not like the kind one would see on a TV sitcom airing on one of those starter TV networks, but enough to make it amusing for what it was!
One thing lead to another. Soon, it was time to move to larger quarters, and in the nick of time too as their building was going to be knocked down in order to build a three story condo complete with swimming pool, underground garage, and full sized gym. They could have gotten a place at this new building, but where would they live in the year’s time span between tear down, build up, and move in?
To make a longer story shorter, Ryan And Sherry did get settled into their new home; a 1950’s era bungalow, complete with back yard full of patchy crabgrass and the original TV aerial still mounted on the rooftop. Before long, the first of two kids were born; a girl named Madison (named after the child of an actress appearing in some long forgotten sitcom appearing on the WB Network), and shortly after a son called Hunter. (Again, named after some other sitcom actress’s kid that once had a show airing on the UPN Network.) Now they were a family, complete with a house, kids, mortgage payments, and two salaries to pay off nearly everything. The only thing they didn’t have was a marriage license. But Ryan promised Sherry that he would get around to applying for one. But since everything was going OK as it was, marching off to the county clerk’s office for some piece of legal paper that was gonna set them back $67.50 was rather a low priority. But at least the idea was there!
AFTER THE NEW MILLENNIUM FINALLY began while Jay Leno was still cracking jokes on The Tonight Show about the Y2K scare that never arrived, Ryan And Sherry’s “marriage” was starting to show its oats. Sherry was working long and longer hours at the office while Ryan got a few construction jobs working on some housing developments located in former apple orchards. Madison and Hunter began their elementary education, being at school from 7:30 AM to 3:30 PM, not counting after school activities that would last beyond 7:00 PM. The work loads were beginning to get longer and more complex for everyone. The house was getting to become a mess, too (Who had time to clean the place?) as well as cleaning the insides of their 1997 Ford Explorer (Eddie Bauer edition) that served as the official family “Mommymobile”, hauling the kids to school in the early morning’s light, and picking them up from school in the early evening’s twilight. Ryan still kept his 1986 Camaeo, so his way of getting around was already spoken for. In spite of these transportation antics as well as other junk like getting the bills, paying the bills, ignoring the bills, and related forms of domestic living, this lifestyle was getting to become too much!
Soon, Ryan and Sherry would be having little tiffs and grew into bigger tiffs. Ryan would accuse Sherry for not doing her household job correctly. (How would he know? After all, he was just a guy!) Sherry on the other hand, would accuse him for not being there for the family! (He claimed that he was there, just as long as he parked himself in front of the 32” Sony Trinitron watching ESPN on weekends!) Apparently, these two forms of household type living wasn’t exactly gonna cut it. So Sherry had to do something and fast!
One afternoon, while reading a rather dog eared six month old back issue of O-The Oprah Magazine at the hair stylists (the mag where the Queen of All Media would show her smiling face on the cover), there was an article about when and how to leave one’s domestic partner when things go coo-coo! The article stated (quoting “experts” every fourth paragraph), that then things go wacky, one has to do one of two actions: hang around and sweat it all out for what it is, or pack up your booty and get out of Dodge fast! Upon reading that article for most of its length (minus one page that was ripped out of the mag by some unknown person), Sherry decided that if she wanted to get her life back--assuming that she had life in the first place, she would grab the kids and hit the road! (She was sure that even Oprah would approve that hunch. After all, Oprah was her best friend---right???)
UPON COMING BACK FROM the hair stylist, she needed to grab her goods and start on the blowout big time! Once she arrived at her unkempt home, she pulled two old American Tourister suitcases from the bedroom closet, and started to fill each case with all of the clothing that she could not live without. After filling each case to the brim, she grabbed another suitcase (a Samsonite) that was in the hall closet, and packed up her kid’s clothing and related goods. After this packing away for the vacation-not, she then headed off to the living room area that looked like a punch down drag out fight took place in this room. (Maybe it did?) She grabbed a piece of scrap paper that came from some junk mail delivery advertising a satellite TV subscription offer, and scrawled a message placing that paper with a piece of duct tape on the TV screen for Ryan to see. All it read was,
-Ryan, I’m in the process of moving on!
Yule (sic) hear from my lawer (sic) soon!
Bye!- S
Before anyone would say a single word (that wasn’t too hard to do since nobody was speaking in the first place), Sherry threw the suitcases in the cargo section of the SUV, started the car/truck, and hit the gas. Before anyone could say “What the...?” (which was still not difficult to do since nobody was talking), she left the place nearly for good. Ryan didn’t find out until three days later when he arrived home after being gone for that long. (Where did he go? Since he isn’t a main character in this story, what difference did this make?)Yule (sic) hear from my lawer (sic) soon!
Bye!- S
SINCE THIS WRITER SPENT near four pages creating a back story for the main characters never getting around to telling what this tale is all about, we’ll just move onward with the basic details. Sherry soon moved from the travel agency for a position at BigCoComInc, working in some department that would remain stateside. (The rest of the company moved all of their grunt work to such locations as Upper Volta, Lower Sloblinski, Zulu Congo, and other places one used to only read about in National Geographic). She moved to the housing development located in the one time apple orchard within some unit that had a large kitchen, no living room to speak of, and was over wired for cable TV. Many of the buildings in the area sat empty since the finance companies that now owned them wasn’t gonna live there! A few houses were even being knocked down for the planting of an apple orchard in its place. Taylor and Hunter, now bonfire “tweener’” product, took advantage of everything available to them. If they wanted to speak to mom, all they would do was to send a text message to her iPhone about whatever they wanted to text, assuming that they can keep track of their messages. After all, if these kids were going to send 800 text messages a day, they had to learn how to send the right message to the right person. Many times Sherry would get messages about secret tips on getting into level XIX in the video game Blast ‘em 9, or about the latest tweets that Taylor’s nemesis Brooklyn sent that afternoon. (Call these strange text messages today’s answer to a “wrong number”!)
Of course, Sherry wasn't exactly a stooge either! She was just as high tech as her kids, or just trying to be! During her down time at the office (when she has any), she would read a few chapters of some best selling romantic gothic novel on her iPad. She would be planning her evening meals on her iPhone using various food “apps” that were downloaded from somewhere. And she would be working both at the job location as well as anywhere else, just as long as the “anywhere else” had WiFi access.
But Sherry was still just a mom and proud of it! She made this fact known to anyone that cared to know about it. Within her blog pages called “Mom I Is” that she has maintained for the past six months (and has a total of four registered readers out in cyberspace land) she wrote. “I really have to make sure that as a single mom, I do my best to hold by kids at bay. My status as a single mom has taught me a lot of things. However, I wish I can keep track of ‘em all!”
Ditto on her Facebook page, where she would write condensed versions of her musings. Her number of “friends”, also claiming to be mom types (single or otherwise) would “agree” on what she had to post. This didn’t count mindless photos upon photos of her kids doing what appeared to be normal activities. After all, when parents (or a parent) of kids would take pictures of their little darlings, they would usually wind up in a photo album or three that would be looked upon by relatives, close friends, and the occasional stranger. Nowadays, when one is snapping away with their 8.0 megapixil camera, they insist of uploading all of the photos shot (as many as 800 separate pix), and post then on some photo album website for anyone to see, even though most people don’t give a hoot in hell to look at what was posted.
But Sherry is just taking advantage of her challenges of raising a family, keeping a household in gear, and knowing that thanks to her wisdom, knowledge, as well as those timely tips from Dr. Phil, she can take upon anything that comes by her--or so she thought!
LOOKING AT THE CALENDAR nestled on the “dashboard” within the OS of her Macbook Pro, she noticed that December 25th, the day known as “Christmas”, would fall on a Sunday this year. This would mean that she would take her holiday day off the Monday next. That day would be “Boxing Day”. She never understood why there would be such a holiday paying tribute to prizefighters as Ali, Frazer and that guy that makes those electric frying devices. Perhaps she’ll Google “boxing day” to find out!
Whatever the case, that is the holiday time that everybody and their Uncle Louie is going to be “crazy busy” with shopping on-line, sending off Christmas e-cards, playing tunes of the season from their iPods (or was it from their iPads?) as well as attending parties where food and booze would be served. Although everything would go in full warp speed, Sherry always looked forward to this time of the year.
SHERRY WAS RAISED IN a home setting that took Christmas rather seriously for what it was. Abigail (the mom) would plan for the big season around the week of Thanksgiving. Many times, Sherry’s aunt Sophie would help her plan the season together. Since Sherry, along with mom, dad Franklyn, and sister Belle, who in today’s PC terms would be considered as “emotionally challenged” and living in what was then known as a “special school”, would head on over to her aunt’s place across town for the big Thanksgiving meal. Many relatives and friends of the family would be in attendance; some Sherry knew, others she only knew of, and the rest she didn’t have a clue to who they were. While everyone was seated around the main dining table in the dining room (where else?) with a few “spill over” card tables that were set up for the kids in the group, usually placed right in front of the Emerson 21” color TV set in the living room (the best seat in the house!), Sophie and Abigail would sit right next to one another at the main table and discuss the big Christmas plans while everyone else at the same table was keeping busy passing serving plates of candied yams, creamed mashed potatoes, sweat peas, home made biscuits, and of course, the roast turkey with plenty of sage seasoned cornbread stuffing on the side! This was Thanksgiving at its utmost!
While everyone would be stuffing themselves with the stuffing et. al. Sophie and Abigail would set their plans, from the decorating, baking, carol singing sessions, card sending, as well as shopping and gift wrapping. Each one would arrange every step of this multi process that would continue for the next thirty days, right to December 25th. The rest of the season would be the plans to return unwanted gifts, as well as ringing out the old year and welcoming in the new! Between the fourth Thursday of November to January 2nd, it was going to be a busy time!
And Sherry would take part in the celebration as well! She would help her mom with the baking, getting recipes from mom’s 1949 edition of Betty Crocker’s Cook Book, as well as collecting new(er) recipes found in the Christmas edition of Woman’s Day and those other housewife magazines that arrived in the family’s mail slot each month. She sometimes chose some of the goodies found within the cookbook baked on the family’s Sears Lady Kenmore stove. Some recipes would come out all right, while others--not so good! But that’s what makes a learning process a learning process--through learning the process!
Not only there was baking, but there was the decorating. Franklyn would pull out old musty boxes out from the attic full of the family’s Christmas decorations that’s been part of this clan for ages, or at least since Sherry was born. There were the outdoor lights that had the bigger bulbs that burned bright and hot to the touch. There were the indoor lights consisting of those new finagled mini bulbs that didn’t burn as bright, but felt cool to the touch. There were the Christmas ornaments that were different in size, color, and shape. Most of these were of the fragile variety, but there were a few that were either wooden or plastic. They didn’t bust when you dropped them, but they were not as pretty or nice as the kind that shattered to smithereens when they fell onto a hard surface.
Of course, there was the tree itself. Every year, Franklyn would bust the theory that “everybody” was getting a plastic tree! But not this family! It would be the real McCoy: a genuine Washington state pine tree, cut from the bottom stem and “planted” into a metal red and green colored metal Christmas tree stand, covered with a sheet of material that resembled dirty cotton. (Because is was a sheet of dirty cotton from being used too many times!) Every year, Franklyn and the family would pile into the 1963 Dodge Polara station wagon and head on over to the Courtesy Buick used car lot, where dozens upon dozens of Christmas trees would be stacked and placed in rows for all to see. Al, the guy in charge of the trees, would be sitting in a small wooden shack keeping shop (and warm) until a few prospective customers stopped by. Franklyn would scour each row of trees until he found the perfect one while Abigail and Sherry would look by. (And if she was able to get away from “special school” that day, Belle would come along for the experience.)
“Hey! I found our tree!” yelled Franklyn, as he grabbed a nearly seven foot tall tree with branches that opened like an upside down umbrella. The needles were intact, and the whole tree gave a fragrance of well, a Christmas tree! This would be the tree for the season!
After the tree was taken home and placed in the center of the living room, carefully not blocking the view of the Westinghouse B&W TV console, (the only that looked like a piece of mahogany style furniture), from Franklyn’s Lay-Z-Boy chair, then there was the ritual of decorating the tree. This was a family event, with dad, mom, Sherry, and once in a while her best friend Amy Zollenberg who came from a “broken home”, participating. While the gang would place the ornaments and tinsel on the tree (after dad strung up the lights), the phonograph would play mom and dad’s Christmas albums from their collection consisting of Wayne Newton, Tony Marvin, and even Gogi Grant, all singing those timeless favorites one hears non stop from the day after Thanksgiving through December 25th.
Oh, yes! There were stacks upon stacks of Christmas cards to send. Every year, Abigail would be seated along the dining room table--the same spot where she would pay all of the monthly bills, and address each envelope by hand, signing each card with a simple, “Greetings from the Dunhurst family” and stuffing each card inside of that pre addressed envelope. Since everybody was getting the same card with the same greeting, it really didn’t matter what card was being sent to whom! It was all the same! After sealing each envelope with a damp sponge, Abigail placed a sticky back address label with their return address written upon them that came in the mail from the Korean War Vets Association (in exchange for a “donation”). Then there were the postage stamps, each one would be applied with the damp sponge. When Abigail would go out the next day, she would send the entire lot of cards, stuffing each one is a mailbox. She figured that if she sent a card to somebody, she would get a card in return. Sometimes this happened, while other times it didn’t! At least she tried!
And Sherry loved to look at the cards the family got from others. Some would be simple with just the name of the family (“The Smiths”) scribbled inside. Others would have more of a message, stating to keep and have a happy holiday season. A few that came were rather bold. Some families wrote their annual “What-I-Did-The-Previous-Year” letter, consisting of a whole recap of what that family did between January and early December, listing names and places that may not be necessarily be known by the receiver of the letter. The letters itself, printed through a fair to poor “Xerox” process, would be written in a style either akin to a newspaper article, or by a method that resembled a 4th grade writing assignment. No matter how great or badly written these letter read, at least the thought of sending them out was there!
Last but not least was the shopping and wrapping of gifts. Franklyn, Abigail, Sherry and sometimes Belle, would head on over to the store front mall to get gifts for folks on their Christmas list. The gifts themselves weren’t necessarily creative. Franklyn would get his annual set of ties, hankies, and bottles of Old Spice after shave (the ones in the “decretive” bottles), while Abigail would get yet another house coat and perhaps a silk scarf or two. Belle would receive a new floppy rag dolly. (Each doll would be chewed to pieces from January to December, so Belle would be going through one doll per year.) Sherry’s gifts would vary each year, depending on how old she was that season. She has her share of dolls, but she would occasionally receive a book title of something geared for “young adults”, usually a story about some young girl who went through some situation and would either live happier ever after or would face the consequences, depending of what this gal in question did or didn’t do! But it really wasn't the gifts themselves that Sherry desired. It was just living the season they way she expected, each one getting better every year!
SADLY, THOSE TIMES WERE THEN, AND THESE TIMES are now. Now it was up to Sherry to cater to making the holiday season the best one this year. And it was up to her kids to spark an interest in doing most, some, or ever a few of the things she did when she was their age. However, times were different then. Planning a big Christmas isn’t such an ordeal anymore. If you wanted to start out on your shopping, all you had to do if you were really smart was to plan your Black Friday plans early by visiting those web sites that contain those “secret” details on where to go, when to go, and how much to pay for the desired crap! Ditto for that Cyber Monday nonsense, too! You can log on as early as midnight local time Monday morn’ and find the deals looking no further than your screen seen on any hand held device--pick your choice! As to the baking, sure you can do that if you want! Getting recipes are ever easy! If you want to make the same kind of Christmas cookies and pies that Millard Filmore’s second cousin (once removed) served at the White House, just Google “Recipes for Christmas cookies and pies from Millard Filmore’s second cousin (once removed) as served at the White House”, and before you can press the ‘return’ button, you have the entire menu right in front of you in a matter of seconds--depending on how fast your download speeds are going that moment. Getting a live tree can still be done, but in these times, why bother with a live tree--or any tree? You can get one if you want, but nowadays, nobody seems to notice! (Besides, cutting down trees will just add to the global warming crisis, and not using plastic for trees will also help environmental matters! Just Google it if you’re in doubt!)
And sending Christmas cards? “What’s a Christmas card?” some folks may ask--the same ones that are too lazy to Google “Christmas Cards-what are they?” If one want to send such cards, now referred to as “Holiday Cards” since many holidays of many faiths fall in December; some real, others made up by folks that rely upon arranging flash mob events for their own purposes, one can take a few minutes out of their busy day sending an e-mail blast to everyone they know of wishing them a “happy holidays” using some HTML design operated by Flash driven applications (or whatever application Apple accepts for use on their iPhones/iPads), with a link to a holiday themed video posted on YouTube. And don’t get us started on sending greetings to all of your Facebook friends and/or Twitter followers!
SHERRY KNOWS THAT SHE MUST live in the times. However, a lot of folks she knows in person and on the ‘net doesn't seem to grasp the idea of these time tested traditions. Many of her “gal-pals”, fellow moms that are too busy with their careers, their kids, their spouses or partners, and other things within their lives, don’t seem to care much anymore. Sure, many of these same BFFs (for the moment anyway) grew up in an era where the holidays really meant something! Lighting a candle each night at sunset for eight days straight was special way back when, but who wants to do that now? Maybe your clunky cousin Sarah or perhaps Sol Weisman. (He’ll do almost anything!) However, if you really want to light candles for over a week’s time, there is an app for that out there! (Just Google “Minora lighting apps” and you’ll be good to go!)
But Sherry really misses what Christmas, or the holidays in general, are really all about. In spite of all of the seasonal nonsense that she was weaned on, she never really embraced the actual religious story behind this whole rigamarole. Her mother and father never got into the church going bit. Sure, they did so on December 25th and whatever Sunday Easter fell on that year, but it was just for the novelty. It was also to show that you did attend church, even if was for only two times per year. Besides, Franklyn always wanted to see what kind of folks drag themselves out on a Spring Sunday morning or winter’s day to the local house of worship just to sing a few tired hymns with music provided by a creepy sounding organ while the reverend whoever was giving a sermon that no one will hear (No one comes near!) And after the whole service was over, the folks would split right away to attend an Easter brunch or to return home to grab those Christmas gifts!
But this “And it came to pass...” nonsense wasn’t the focus here! It was the tradition and sprit that came with each season. Sherry just wanted a bit of that! She can live and breathe her high tech world for eleven months of the year. Ditto for Hunter and Taylor! It’s about high time that these kids learn a few new things that doesn't rely upon a WiFi connection, a torrent download, or a tweet! For this year, it’s going to be the real deal!
TAYLOR AND HUNTER: LETS DO SOME HOLIDAY STUFF THIS WEEKEND! MOM.
That was the text message she sent her two kids that morning while they were in their schools. Of course, they would not get their messages right away as the school doesn't allow student phone usage during class times. But between classes, they’ll get the note. While Sherry was awaiting for an answer from the kids, she was trying to send notes to her friends for events that she can do with them; kinda like “me time” minus the kids. So she placed a notice on her Facebook wall reading “I want to do some stuff for the season--bake cookies, sing songs, maybe place a star on a tree. Anybody game?” After that post, she tweeted the same message, carefully writing the same details in 140 characters or less.
On her blog, she wrote. “I really would like to show my kids just what this season is all about. I mean the real season, such as a tree, or backing red and green colored cookies. Maybe play a Christmas album. Not something from a CD or an iPod, but from a real record! I think my kids just might get a kick of hearing Perry Como sing “Home For the Holidays” just like I did when my folks--God bless them both--did for me not so many years ago. But with all of the school work they have to do before the seasonal break, as well as the sports classes and games they do after school, it’s very difficult for me to tell them that this time of year isn’t all about selling and buying unwanted stuff, it’s all about the feeling of joy, hope, and peace on earth, good will to all men and women! And within these uncertain times, now is the moment to show off these traits, and I must take action before it’s all too late!"
Sherry ended her blog for that day, knowing that she expressed her inner feelings for those to read and ponder. Perhaps she would make this notion known. What really bothered her is how she would become accepted by these rather unusual ideas. Was she too frank about this? Was she too forward about teaching her kids some notions that seemed strange to them? Or was she really doing the right thing? One of those woman’s mags once has some write up about listening to your gut feelings and to do what your innards have to say! Perhaps Sherry should take heed on those gut feelings and use them for inspiration rather than passing them off as another case of menopausal gas pains.
BY 6:00 PM THAT EVENING, SHERRY received a text reply from Madison, hoping that her daughter would be interested in the holiday nonsense. Instead, it was a request if she and her gang of BFFs can head over to the Northeast South Mall West to go shopping, have a bite to eat, and to hang around. Upon reading Taylor’s cryptic message, Sherry just wrote a simple “Let me know how long you will be out there” and nothing more. Sherry heaved a sigh, knowing that her daughter pretty much ignored her message. As she heaved her second sight, Hunter sent a message. This time, it was another ”wrong number”, with the message giving the crack keygen numbers for the video game Bamberge: Star “F”er that was supposed to go to somebody named Dyllen. It didn’t seem that Hunter wanted to have some holiday cheer, either!
In spite of this pimping out by her kids, Sherry could find other sources to make this season bright(er). She can call upon some of the real friends that she sees in person, and perhaps they might squeeze in an hour for some baking, singing, or card sending. Then again, maybe not!
SHERRY WAS GAZING UPON ALL OF THE bright green, red, blue and white lights that seemed be be hung upon any retail business out there. All along the main business drag, as well as the for noted shopping malls, stores were doing their best to get anyone inside to shop for the season. During the previous eleven months, these same retailers were offing sales in store, sales on line, and just sales to convince folks that it was OK to spend the money they had on “fun” stuff, rather than paying dearly for gas, food, more for gas and for less food. After all, these times were somewhat on the “hard” side, where holding on to a nickel or three really made a difference! Depending on what news source one tuned in on, it was either an “economic downturn”, a “recession”, a “depression”, or “the end of the world as we knew it!”. Whatever the case, things were just clinging on. In fact, the area Sherry lives isn’t exactly going through a boom period, either. Already, those homesteads built along her housing development were now worth less than the apple tress that once stood on those lots. Last month, a McMansion that had an olympic sized swimming pool, a 950 square foot kitchen, a 850 square foot den, six bedrooms, twenty seven closets (including eight of the walk in variety), seven bathrooms, a finished 1200 square foot basement, as well as a six car attached garage, went back on the market at the reduced price of $50,000. This may sound like a deal during good times, but alas, these were not good times! The seller, First Bank, got this house along with 12,000 other homes from Second Bank before they went bust. Third Bank was going to buy the assets from Second Bank, but First Bank got their first! Leading up toward this bidding war was Fourth Bank, followed by Fifth Bank, Sixth Bank, and you know the rest. Then again, since this story should concentrate on Sherry and her kids, we’ll leave this housing and bank crisis reporting to the folks at The Wall Street Journal, rather than in short stories geared for the holidays!
Anywho, back to Sherry. As she was becoming mesmerized by the lighting, she thought that if she was going to spend the season the way she wanted it to be, she was going to do it herself! No more relying upon friends, “friends”, and other people to take care of the merry making. It was going to be her and her only.
As she was driving down the main street where all of the local businesses were keeping afloat, Sherry was looking at the folks that were walking down upon the sidewalks that the storefronts faced. Many appeared to be toting shopping bags as well as packages that were decked out in the standard colors for the season. Overall, the notions all around looked festive, but was this affecting our protagonist the same way?
Not really!
“S’MATTER? SOMETHING’S GIVING YOU THE SHAKES?”
Pat Knowdixe (pronounced “ka-now-deeks” in case you are reading this story aloud), one of Sherry's long time coworkers at the BigCoComInc offices, asked her this burning during their twenty minute lunch hour. Sherry, frustrated over the seasonal frolics while being totally bummed out, decided to skip eating lunch and to get out of the building for a breath of fresh(er) air. She took a back staircase that lead over toward the rear alley. This was a short cut to get to an outdoor patio area that had a few concrete tables and benches that were uncomfortable to sit on. That was made intentionally so nobody would be tempted to sit their longer than necessary or to perhaps doze off for a spell on company time. As Sherry went down the back staircase, she opened the door leading toward the alley and found Pat there, leaning on the wall while taking a drag from her Virginia Slims Ultra cigarette. The company, along with just about everyone else, keeps a “no smoking” office. Anyone who wanted to puff on a smoke had to do so in the alley. Sure it wasn’t fair for the smokers to maintain their habit nestled along a few rows of dumpsters full of shredded paper clumps while standing on piles of cigarette butts that hasn’t been cleaned up for about four years. But what could these smokers do? File a class action lawsuit? And on what grounds?
Sherry stopped to talk to Pat. She was a good friend for the moment. Pat has been at this company just as long as Sherry, nearly working side by side doing the same anonymous things people did in such firms. They were both the same age and nearly the same domestic status; Sherry was once “married” and has kids, while Pat was never married but would like to have kids. Pat was hoping to perhaps adapt a kid or two from some nation where BigCoComInc has offices and employs about 60% of their grunt employees that make nearly $6.18 a day based upon current monetary exchange rates. Pat’s partner Gloria would also like to have these kids as well, sharing the responsibilities that is part of domestic motherhood.
“Hello, Pat! I didn’t know you were out here!” Sherry said, a bit surprised to see somebody standing in the back alley.
“Nobody knows that I’m out there, and it’s just as well!” Pat replied, taking a drag from her cancer stick. “So what’s eating you today?”
“Well, I’m a bit frustrated over what’s been going on lately!” Sherry answered, looking down on the pile of butts Pat was standing upon.
“Yeah, me, too! Things are frustrating as they are! I can’t get that new software program to work, either!”
“I don’t mean frustrating at work” Sherry said, not really knowing what kind of software Pat was referring to. “I mean about me and this time!”
“So what’s on you now?” Pat asked. She spoke in these short yet quick responses, almost as if somebody was going to interrupt her in mid sentence in order to get some word in edgewise. The way she spoke and the way she communicated would be perfect for those that live in the aura where everything can be stated in those 140 characters or less.
“You know my two kids, Taylor and Hunter?” Sherry asked.
“Yeah! I know of ‘em! What about ‘em?”
“I don’t seem to communicate with them as I used to. They don’t see me as their mom. They seem to see me as somebody that looks over them in the same house they live”.
Pat smiled a bit while taking a last long drag from her spent cigarette, only to flick the thing across the alleyway. “Is that the only thing that’s bothering you?”
Pat had some uncanny notion to read how people are feeling at that moment. She could suspect if somebody’s feeling happy, sad, angry, or confused. They didn’t have to show their emotions because Pat would just know. She can even tell how intoxicated somebody was. She would know if somebody was slightly tipsy or totally snockered! If was just one of those traits she had and really didn’t know how to use it to its fullest.
Well, it’s already Christmas, and I want to show to my kids that this is the time for peace on earth---”
“...And good will to all guys! I know the story!!” Pat replied, cutting Sherry off in mid sentence to finish her tired sounding line. “So what’s the problem?”
“I get bogged down in teaching my kids what’s right and mighty. They don’t seem to know as much as I want them to know about the good I have for them, as well as the good toward others! They used to understand, but now they are out of touch. I’m just trying to be a better mom that what my mom was to me!”
Pat looked at her for a moment. Sherry still had her head hanging slightly downward in a “woe-is-me” pouting stance. Her frustrations were starting to get the best of her, nearly confessing to something that Pat sensed longer that Sherry ever realized.
Pat pulled out another cigarette from her breast pocket along with a 99 cent disposable lighter. She lit her cigarette, taking a long puff and breathing the smoke into her mouth, all without a hint of a cough. “You ever talked to your kids about how you feel?” she asked.
Sherry stammered for a bit for giving her reply. “No...not really!”
“Why not?” Pat replied, taking another long drag.
“ I don’t what them to know how I really feel. I just want to give them a good impression!”
“Ya ain’t giving them a good impression by not letting them know what’s the score! How about just telling them! You’re trying to be a good mom to them, right?”
“Of course!” Sherry replied.
“So talk to them! Give them the low down! Just tell your kids, ‘hey. I’m the mom around here’! What’s wrong with that?”
“Well..: Sherry continued, “I did send them a text message before school, and i----”
“Hold the freaking phone for a sec!” Pat stated, giving Sherry a startled response. “What’s the business of texting them? Can’t they talk? Can’t you talk to them--in person? What’s the deal of texting all day long. You ain’t thirteen years old! You can speak to them as much as you can speak to me! So why don’t you?”
Sherry didn’t know just what to say for that moment. Perhaps Pat was acting like the mother (or is it the father?) that she never really had. Oh sure, Sherry’s late mom Abigail was a good mom for what she was, but wasn’t really too emotionally deep for her eldest daughter. With running a household, as well as being a chairwoman at the local Ladies Auxiliary group, Abigail did what she could to fill Sherry’s emotional needs. But things came for the worse when Abigail, nearly on her deathbed at the Sunset Years Nursing Home, found out that Sherry gave birth to two kids without getting married first! In fact, she was so frustrated by Sherry’s actions, that she didn’t want to see these “bastardized” kids that would carry on the family name! All she said was “If you’re gonna make whoopee, be careful! If you’re not careful, then you get what you deserve!” (Those were not Abigail's last words. He final words before she expired was something in the nature of “When Dr. Phil’s show is over, turn the TV set to channel------”, before breathing her last! Not really the choice of words to place in an epitaph, but when one is gonna kick, it’s far from the proper time to write a memorable farewell speech!)
As Sherry’s flashback thoughts came to an end, Pat spoke up. “I tell ya what! When you see your kids later today, you speak to them about what’s going down! Don’t text, tweet, or place any bulls#it comments on their Facebook walls! Just tell them for real and in person! Ya got that?”
“Oh.....I guess that makes sense, but I can’t fore----”
At that moment, Pat’s iPhone was making its incoming call sound, playing a sample track of Kesha’s “Tic-Tok” for its ring tone.
“Lemmie grab this for a sec!” as Pat pulled the smart phone device from her pants pocket while hitting the ‘talk’ button.
“Yo Gloria, what’s the buzz?” Pat said as she paused from saying anything while Gloria’s voice rang through her phone.
“Then why don’t you send me a text about the details, and i’ll look at it later? I’ll give you then numbers when I get to ‘em!
After a few more seconds of silence (for Sherry anyway), she pushed the ‘end’ function on the phone, only to slip it back in her pants pocket as fast as she pulled it out.
“What was the thing you were telling me about not texting to my kids, only for you to have somebody text you?” Sherry asked as she confronted Pat with some notion that didn’t jive with her advice.
“Gloria’s my lover! Your kids are your kids! Let’s leave it at that! See you later!”
With that comment, Pat flicked the now spent cigarette toward the dumpster full of shredded paper, and headed back inside of the building, signifying that the lunch hour was over!
As Pat left the scene, Sherry stood there for a moment thinking of what she had just told her moments before. Perhaps she was trying to become a “hip mom” for a little too much. Sure, moms like her are always on top of things, but perhaps this mom was getting to be a little ‘over the top’! Perhaps on concentrating to have her multitasking multiplied, she would make some effort to engage for a ‘race to the bottom’, using the same methods that her late mom did for her a generation or so before. After all, Abigail was kinda hip to what was available to her in terms to speaking to her kids. She used the telephone to call Sherry on her whereabouts, although Sherry has to rely upon a pay phone located in the back of the Wash-A-Day Laundromat that featured Norge industrial washer and dryer units to either call her mom or to wait for her call at a designated time; usually around 4:00 PM when Sherry was out of school for the day. She would have to stand near the phone to answer it when it rang, unless somebody was using the phone and thus, Abigail would just get a busy signal.
So Sherry just had to slow down just a bit, right around the time that Christmas was going at full peak, or at leased it seemed to go that way. After all, with a miserable year the entire nation went through, perhaps a little of that peace on earth and good will crap would become a welcomed relief until January when reality would rear its ugly head once more!
Today is the day that I’m going to communicate with Taylor and Hunter the real old fashion way! I’m actually going to talk to them--for real! No text or tweets, too, just like Pat said to do! I’m a proud mom indeed!
WITHIN HOURS OF THAT MEETING with Pat in the back alley, Sherry made haste to post the above statement on her Facebook wall. She wanted to tell the world (or at least her 300 or so ‘”friends”) that she was going to take her coworker’s advice and actually talk to her kids! She was indeed going to speak with them on sharing a bit of this holiday cheer that’s been floating around since Columbus Day! After all, if she Sherry, the “supermom” of the moment, wasn’t going to pull this stunt, who will? In fact, Sherry saw a quote that Tiffi Purewhite, one of her fellow ‘friends” posted on her wall that stated "Your kids are your treasures for you and the future. If you polish your treasures well, they will glow and shine. It you don’t, they tarnish! Keep polishing until you have that mirror finish".
Sherry didn’t know if that quote was an original piece, or something that was copied from another webiste, but she did like the ring to it and could relate to that metaphor. When Sherry was just a tot (or at least ten years old), Abigail would call her a ‘treasure” since she was the only child that her mom can speak to. Dad Franklyn used the term “treasure” to describe her daughter a few times, but was done out of habit rather than by personal choice.
Since Sherry finds her two older kids as treasures, she must take heed and start her polishing. However, these two were ‘lost treasures’ as she can’t seem to know where they were at that moment. Looking at her iPhone, the time read 3:46 PM. They should have been out of school at that hour. However, it was Thursday and Taylor was at her gymnastic event, while Hunter was playing indoor field hockey over at the “Y” field house, and with all of the physical activity that were involved in, they would not have the chance to even glance at the new(er) text messages that came in since that morning. So Sherry would have to wait for a bit until she can contact her kids to let them know she wishes to speak with them! In this day and age, one would have to make an appointment to make an appointment! Isn't life grand???
AROUND 5:17 THAT AFTERNOON, Sherry’s phone made its noise; a sample ring tone of Slim Whitman crooning “Rose Marie”. (A mild tribute to Abigail who used to adore this great star of the musical world!) That meant that one of her kids were attempting to chime in. However, Sherry was still at the office, working overtime (again), trying not only to do her assigned work, but the tasks that a fellow coworker once did who was laid off a month beforehand.
Sherry stopped adding mindless entry number on a spreadsheet on the company’s computer machine, and reached over to her overloaded pocketbook to fish out her phone. After tossing tubes of lipstick, compact cases, combs, sets of keys that she doesn't know if they fit any household locks, as well as a few gum wrappers and other junk too numerous to mention here, she found her phone. On the screen, a text message was posted reading:
Mom-Am w/ Paris n London @ mall.
B here 4 while. Text me.-T.
Translation: ”Mom, I am with Paris and London at the mall. I will be here for a while. Send me a text message- signed Taylor”. (“Paris” and “London” are two of Taylor’s BFFs--or did you figure that out already?)B here 4 while. Text me.-T.
Sherry heaved a sigh! She was glad that her child was someplace that she could be found if necessary, but she was hoping for a phone call--one that uses a voice to get the message across. However, it appeared that Taylor and the two cities were out at the mall taking advantage of the pre-Christmas sales, or just hanging out for the sake of just hanging out.
As she was getting back to her work filling in rows of numbers on a spreadsheet, her phone buzzed again, this time with a sample rung tone of Engelbert Humperdinck’s "The Last Waltz with You". (Again, another tribute to her late mom who was a fan of this nearly forgotten vocalist) That ring tone was assigned to Hunter. He was also sending a text message to Sherry. This time he wrote:
will B hear till 7, unless practise gos long 2 8. CM!!
(Translation: I will be here until 7:00 PM, unless practice goes longer until 8:00 PM. Call me)It seemed that her son was always “in practice” in some kind of sporting activity. Sherry enrolled Hunter in so many sporting events, she lost track to how many sports he participates in! At last count, he was enrolled in Pop Warner football, little league baseball, various soccer leagues, tennis, badminton, and field hockey. (Whoops! Taylor was involved in badminton and field hockey!) It really didn’t matter what kind of sport this boy played, just as long as he did!
Sherry wanted to giver her two kids an opportunity to participate in many sports and activities that she was once deprived of. When little Sherry was ten years old (c.1976), her local school athletic board didn’t offer many events geared for “preteens”, especially girls. The board was rather show in compiling with Title IX rulings (Google "Title IX" for more details), so Sherry didn’t much to do after school, except to either hang out with her friends if they were available or just go home to catch reruns of Gilligian’s Island on TV. Abigail was usually out taking care of some nonsense at the woman’s auxiliary club or doing some token part-time work typing letters for Edna Filmstrip, an 86 year old lady who lived in the neighborhood that was in the process of slowly going out of her mind! Edna’s mind was so whacked, she once claimed that she was a personal lover with silent film star John Gilbert, performed as the star vocalist with Ben Bernie’s orchestra, and thought of the idea of creating nylon stockings for DuPont! However, there wasn’t any way for Edna to prove these facts, but it did make amusing entertainment when she spoke about ‘em while Abigail would type letters on her 1926 vintage Remmington typewriter. Edna would have Sherry type love letters addressed to Robert Redford! (Edna had a thing for him.) Abigail would pay Sherry a whopping $9.18 per hour to compose these letters that would never be read by this moving picture star in Hollywood!
Franklyn, on the other hand, was at his real job over at United Tool & Die. She really didn’t know what he did there, and really didn’t seem to care, but he did bring home the bacon every week to keep the for noted bacon on the table and the roof over their heads. Belle lived at the “special school” and was never at home except for special occasions. Sherry was rather devastated in being one of the growing number of latchkey kids that were springing up around the domestic landscape in droves. Back then, kids had to defend for themselves while the parents both worked, or were (*gasp!*) divorced, meaning that nobody would be home until 6:00 PM or later!
Ever since those home alone moments from way back when, Sherry made sure that her two kids would never to through the same agony and pain that she faced when she was finished with school. So she made sure that her kids would be kept busy in any event they were suited for from the early morning dawn to the evening’s sunset! She knew that if they were so tied up in sports, or whatever post modern kids do nowadays, they would never feel that they were alone nor had time to do stuff like explore the neighborhood or play a sporting match as a ‘pick up’ game. The games they would play would consist of a match taking place at a professional sporting field, run by an army of coaches, assistant coaches, and assistant assistant coaches that knew every rule of the sport or activity in question. And adding to the mix where the massive amounts of moms ( the ”soccer” variety or otherwise) that would stand on the sidelines to scream and yell to their kids to play faster and harder! There were a few occasional dads out there as well; the ones that either gained custody of their kids, or were part of a parental household that consisted of two “dads”!.
SHERRY FINISHED HER JOB for the day, and it was time to get back home to fix a healthy dinner for herself and the two kids in question. She made a stop at Whole Salary Foods to pick up some groceries. It was just as well, since the entire store was all decked out for the season.
Along the front of the outlet’s facade, there were bright white lights all around that used the store’s solar power panels for illumination. There were also strands of real holly and ivy grown locally at the Peace ‘n Love Organic Farms, located not too far away from those apple orchards that are now housing tracks. Inside the place were more holiday cheer. There were racks of greeting cards made from recycled paper that featured inscriptions wishing the receiver to enjoy the holiday season--any holiday season that falls in December! If also gave the option to “buy’” a card that can be sent via e-mail, or posted on a Facebook wall page. This way, it helps the environment by going green, red, blue, white, and other neutral colors!
While she was going through the organic succotash section, her phone buzzed again, this time with a rendition of Give Me Everything by Pitbull featuring Ne-Yo, Afrojack & Nayer. (Apparently, this was a tune that was downloaded by Taylor, since Sherry never heard of this song, let alone knew who recorded it!) Sherry reached into her pocket to turn off the “music” and to find out who was calling.
“Mom. I’m going to be with Madrid, Tsa’sha, Zoe, and Sunday at the mall tonight. One of Sunday’s moms will take me home! Is that OK”? said Taylor over the phone.
“Taylor” said Sherry in tone of voice that was a mix of anger and disappointment. “We were going to spend this evening having dinner together. What are you going to do at the mall?”
“I dunno! Maybe hang out. Do some shopping. Whatever?” Taylor replied as her “crew” were taking in the background.
“So when are you coming back from the mall?” Sherry asked.
“Until they nearly close. I think they are open until ten maybe?”
Sherry heaved a heavy sigh. “OK...just make sure that Sunday’s mom takes you home on time!”
And without saying another word, Taylor clicked her phone off. This is how she ended her calls. Not by saying “goodbye” or anything, but by just handing up. This is how she learned her phone etiquette. When you are finished with a phone conversation, just complete it by pressing the ‘end’ button. The other person will get the hint. When Taylor answers a call, instead to saying ‘hello’, she says a variety of greetings, such as ‘yo’, ‘hey’, hi’, ‘what?’ or sometimes by not saying anything at all. Usually the person on the other end will start on the conversation, so it’s not necessarily to acknowledge one’s self!
As Sherry was getting back to her shopping, the phone rang again. This time it was some Hanson and Wheezer mashup number that was downloaded by Hunter without Sherry’s permission. Although downloading ring tones now and then won’t break one’s budget, but when it’s done over one hundred times in a two week period, there’s going to be a hefty surcharge on the next cell phone bill statement.
“Yes”? said Sherry into her phone while attempting to pick up some quality organic raw lima beans in the produce section.
“Mom. There a game I’m going to play in over at the field house.” Hunter replied. “It’s going into overtime, and I wanted to know like if-----”
“When will you be finished?” Sherry asked.
“I think until ten? Maybe eleven? Maybe later than that?”
“On a school night?
“That’s OK!” Hunter added. “I’ll be ready for school by seven!”
“So how are you getting back home tonight?” Sherry asked while attempting to pick up some lima bean stands from the produce bin and placing each one in a recyclable mesh bag--all using one hand!
“Wait! Lemmie see!” he answered. The he spoke off phone to somebody in the background yelling “Hey! Who’s gonna take me home tonight like?”
After a few seconds of silence (as well as Sherry’s success of filling her mesh bag with enough lima bean stands for that evening’s dinner), Hunter replied back.
“I think Sean’s stepdad’s gonna take me and Jackson back! Lemmie check!” Then he called again off phone to his background yelling “Are you sure that Frank’s gonna come for us? Huh? What?”
After more seconds of silence while Sherry was pushing her cart toward the vegetarian deli counter, Hunter gave his confirmed answer. “Yeah! Looks like it’s OK, like!”
“Well, OK” she said with a tone of disappointment in her voice. “Just get back on time! And who’s this Frank?”
“Oh, that’s Sean’s stepdad! He calls him Frank ‘cuz that’s his name!”
Sherry pressed the ‘end’ button of her phone while heaving another deep sigh. The entire evening with bonding with her kids over dinner was now officially scrubbed! Neither one of these two kids were available with their various activities. Sherry shouldn’t feel bad about this! After all, she was the one that arranged all of these after school events! She could have eased up on their activities, but alas, she didn’t! She thought that giving her kids a fulfilling lifestyle would be good for them. This may be so, but it’s sure as hell not good for Sherry! And especially around this time of the season, where families of all kids and varieties do things together, just like the things that she did not so long ago. She had realized in this post modern world, having classic values (‘classic’ meaning ‘old’) never becomes out of vogue. In one blog she read recently, some mom-type gal named Amanda Flippowt who just got a reality show deal, once stated “I like the way when things are done when it’s like the way it used to be done. You can do it a new way, but when it’s done the old way, it’s even better to do than the newer one”! (With this kind of advice, who else can you turn to??)
LATER THAT NIGHT, SHERRY WAS PREPARING DINNER for herself and nobody else. Her two kids were out doing their own things and it would be likely that they would pick up their own meals of choice. So instead of creating some meal from a recipe that she got from Food.com, she decided to have something that would be pleasing to her; A frozen organic quiche dish made by a company that claims that out of every dollar they earn from their line of dishes, they use this cash toward a worthy purpose, from saving the Dhole (look that up in Wikipedia), to giving aid to some third or fifth world county without internet access that had experienced some tragic event raging from earthquake, flood, hurricane, or a local government overthrow.
While the quiche was being nuked in the microwave, Sherry turned on her MacBook in order to type another entry into her blog. She typed “I can see by my phone it’s only a few more days to December 25th--Christmastime around my house. I wanted to teach my two kids what this time of the year means to me, and what it should mean to them. Although they know the whole meaning of this season, I try to stick to the basics. I try to tell them that this is the time where one should think for their fellow person every day of this year. In December, this thought is usually pushed. But that doesn't mean come January, one should forget! And with my kids, having the choices and opportunities that I didn’t have at their age, they should become aware that peace on earth comes in all sizes and times of day. That’s what this season is all about. Of sure, there is the shopping and all, and there is nothing wrong in shopping! But among the glitter and bright lights, there should be some inner felling of what makes this time of year special. I get these e-mail blasts sent by Pastor Peter Pfaster of CornerstoneVictoryHopeFaith CharityGraceFellowship megachurch, and in his weekly sermons posted on YouTube, he once said “You have your kids as they are only once, Make it best for them!” So that’s what I want! I want my kids to know that they will discover something that might be part of their lives for the years to come!”
Sherry looked at her entry making sure there were no typos to correct. While reading her inner deep thoughts for those in cyberspace land to ponder upon, she felt a tear going down her left cheek. Perhaps she was getting a bit of a cold. Then again, perhaps her emotions were getting the best of her for that second. However, when she writes, she writes about the truth. And that was the truth since you can’t make up stuff like that anyway!
As she was completing her blog entry (and attempting to attach a link to Pastor Pfaster’s video via YouTube), the phone rang again, this time playing Lady Gaga’s "You And I". Sherry grabbed her phone off the table to answer the thing.
“Mom! Would it be OK if we all stopped by the house to grab grub before we head out again?” said Hunter, apparently making an attempt to invite his “posse” in order to eat the family out of house and home.
“No, it would not be OK! I just have a quiche dinner for myself, nothing more!”
Hunter turned away from the phone for a second to speak to his crew in mumbled tones of voices. Then he spoke. “That’s OK! I think Mason’s lactose intolerant anyway! See ya!” And with that comment, he hung up.
Sherry heaved yet another sigh. It appears that her kids--her own flesh and blood, didn’t seem to care much about holiday bonding. In fact, they didn’t seem much to care for anything related toward any holiday. To the kids, a “holiday’ just meant that they were not in school that day, or some of their pre and post school activities and events may be changed around. In December, common day events are often rescheduled for various seasonal activities; some known and others created for the moment (or until somebody causes pressure to acknowledge it!) Last year, a group calling itself an affiliation of the School of Wicca attempted to state that their Winter Solstice holiday was indeed a religious holiday and thus, would not allow any of its school age members to participate in any after school activities, including the league’s basketball playoff game (aka “the big game”) that was taking place at Chester A. Arthur Junior High School, now renamed Nickelodeon Junior High because Viacom paid the local cash strapped school board a hefty amount for naming rights, beating The Walt Disney Company by a few thousand bucks in their bid! The star player in the team (named “Star” by the way) was the lead off player to take down the school’s athletic rivals, the Ibexes from Millard Fillmore JS. Star’s team, then known as “The Chesters” were only one game off to become the regional champs for the first time since 1960, when Richard “Ricky” Nelson scored 37 points in the final minutes of the big game, bringing victory to the school that has since become part of local legion. Ricky claimed that in order to build his strength to play, he wolfed down nine bowls of Kellogg’s OKs (the cereal that featured a likeness of Yogi Bear plastered on each specially marked package) while washing the stuff down with 14 glasses of Bosco chocolate milk right before the game. Ricky played fiercely and brought the team to victory by the time the final signal was called! Right when the buzzer did its thing while the crowd was going wild, Ricky quickly exited from the playing field, ran into the boy’s bathroom, and barfed his entire meal down using three sinks in the process! It took nearly two days for the janitors to clean up the mess that resembled an art masterpiece created by Jackson Pollock.
Anyway, the local Wicca group would not allow Star to star in the game because of the “holiday” and thus, the coach brought the second lead player to fill in: Caleb (or was it Kaleb?) Harley-Davidson. When there was only 46 second left in the game, this duo named player was racking up the points. It looked like the team was going to have its first victory in nearly fifty years when Kaleb (or was it Caleb?) fell down while running with the ball. The other team’s lead player, Leium Knowbodies-Hoam, grabbed the ball only to score an additional seven points, giving the lead (and win) to the opposing team with the final score 57-58. Speculation noted that Leium trapped Caleb (Kaleb?) on purpose! However, nearly three quarters of the attendees were capturing the games on their cell phones and other electronic devices with enough evidence to prove that Kaleb/Caleb was not tripped! He just got his shoelaces on his $300 Nikes tangled up, causing him to fall flat on his face! Just seconds after the game ended, all of the footage captured was uploaded onto YouTube for the rest of the internet world to see for themselves!
While this writer gets back on the real subject on hand--Sherry’s two kids not appreciating the holiday season--let’s point out that Sherry was still within her personal bind. After all, December 25th was fast approaching. Now was the time to enjoy the season (or what was left of it), and Sherry would do all she could to make her family happy and content. This would be a state of being that no antidepressant drug could fix. Most of Sherry's friends (not necessarily her Facebook friends) were coping through their lives through chemistry. If she was going to do the same, she would text her physiologist Dr. Alice Heefemeeanee aka “Dr. Alice” with a message that would read “Bring On The Dope!!”
A FEW MORE DAYS PASSED. THIS WOULD have been the week where Sherry’s company would host their annual holiday party. For many years, the company would book a larger ballroom at the Sheridan hotel where many of its employees would gather to eat, drink, and spread a bit of holiday cheer. She would look forward to these get togethers since it would be the only time of the year where fellow employees could actually get along with one another. During the rest of the year, there would be conflicts left and right. But for only one night, there would be that peace on earth and good will toward (wo)men!
Alas, this night of joy and bliss would not take place. Due to the current economic depression, the company had to scale down on unnecessary expenses, and the holiday party was the first thing to go! OK, never mind the fact that the CEOs voted themselves to receive hefty bonuses and comps while a load of lower level employees were all laid off!! The company was looking after their bottom line. In order to succeed in that measure, some other bottoms had to be kicked to the curb. After all, something’s going to have to pay for those stock options given to the upper elite!
Anyway, Sherry was starting to make do with what she had. According to her latest blog entry, she wrote "It’s a week before Christmas. I haven’t done my shopping yet nor writing a load of cards I must send out, and the biggest concern of them all, I have yet to tell my own two kids that we must celebrate this festive holiday together! This is the most difficult part. When Hunter wants to hang with his group of friends, Taylor has her BFFs to deal with, as well as my overtime at work, it’s very confusing to just work out a plan! How do you moms out there handle such strife? Please reply at the post below, or send me an e-mail as SherryD@gmail.com."
About an hour after she had hit the “send” button, she received her first reply. It was from somebody with the screen name “Summer’sMom07” (supposedly sent through her iPhone) that stated:
"I agree! When you have a five year old in gymnastics class all afternoon, and a seven year old playing indoor T-ball, it’s hard to have them see you light up a tree or another candle! (I do both LOL!) So I just take it for what it’s worth and then I move on. It’s the only way to go!"
This bit of news (or advice, depending on how one wants to look at it) wasn’t exactly what Sherry had in mind. But then again, mediocre advice was better then no advice...or was it??
A few moments later, another reply came out from nowhere. Using the hashtag of “BiffoGirlzz”, this person writes:
"Your tale reminds me of something I I just got. here it is..
A lonely widow, age 70, decided that it was time to get married again. She put an ad in the local paper that read: HUSBAND WANTED: MUST BE IN MY AGE GROUP (70's), MUST NOT BEAT ME, RUN AROUND ON ME, AND MUST STILL BE GOOD IN BED! ALL APPLICANTS PLEASE APPLY IN PERSON. On the second day, she heard the doorbell. Much to her dismay, she opened the door to see a gray-haired gentleman sitting in a wheelchair. He had no arms or legs. The old woman said, 'You're not really asking me to consider you, are you? Just look at you...you have no legs! The old man smiled, 'Therefore, I cannot run around on you!' She snorted. 'You don't have any arms either!' Again, the old man smiled, 'Therefore, I can never beat you!' She raised an eyebrow and asked intently, 'Are you still good in bed???' The old man leaned back, beamed a big smile and said, 'I rang the doorbell, didn't I?
LOLOLOLOLOLOL!!!!!"
It’s been a while since Sherry received some “spammed” reply. However, no matter how many spam filters are in place within her blog accounts, a few somehow fall through the cracks. Although this gag was intended to bring some humor, Sherry didn’t feel like LOLing at that moment, so she promptly hit the delete key and ended the jokefest right then and there. It looked like this Christmas was going to be another disappointment!
IT WAS NOW THE FRIDAY BEFORE DECEMBER 25th. This would mean “crunch time” for Sherry. Because the kids would be out of school until January, this would free up a bit of time around their ever busy schedules. Unlike some of Taylor's friends who were home schooled, this would finalizes that she and her sibling would actually listen to their mom and have a little cheer for the season. Sherry would especially appreciate this gesture since she was stressed out as anyone else.
Since the Friday before was December 23rd, Nickelodeon JH would call it quits at around 12:00 PM until January 3rd. Right before the noon hour, the front doors of the school would fling open, and the nearly entire population of tweeners attending these hallowed halls would run out to their “freedom” for the next two weeks; That is, freedom from being cooped up for some eight hours inside.
Usually after school, both Taylor and Hunter would go to their designated places on their own, or perhaps somebody’s parent or legal guardian that Sherry knew of would take them to their next activity. Thanks to an app called “Kid Karpool”, one can find out who would be willing and available to pick up what kid and where to take them. All that Sherry would to was to arrange a driver to take them to the gym, the ball field, or whatever place hosted that kid’s event. The app is easy to use and links up to hundreds of users that schedule their lives by their phones. Isn’t modern technology wonderful?
This time around, Sherry contacted her superiors at her job on taking that day off to pick up her kids and have some serious bonding time! She was entitled to this privilege since the company was settling an earlier lawsuit filed by some angry workers stating that BigComCoinc violated the Family Leave Act by not allowing stateside employees some time away from the job site in order to take care of legit family antics. Although the case was settled outside of the courts, the company decided that any employees can take the day off for family matters. Of course, they would be docked for a day’s wages, and would have to file form #2276B (2007 revision) ether by mail or through a secured website forty business days before the fact. If BigComCoinc was going to play by the rules, it wasn’t going to give its employees an easy time from dealing with the company red tape!
AT AROUND 11:50 AM, Sherry pulled her off white 2008 Toyota Camry along the curb near the front entrance of the school. This parking space was the pick up zone where others would stay parked to pick up their assigned kids from school. Many other cars were parked along the sidings, making this long stretch of parking spots linked with one car after another. If one wants to grab a quality spot, one had to arrive early since many of the spaces would fill quickly. The school did have an overflow lot right next to the SpongeBobSquarePants ball field (another part of naming rights awarded to Viacom) located behind the school buildings. Then again, parking in front was always appealing since one didn’t have to walk as far from the front entrance of the school to the parked car. Parking in the lot meant one had to walk an additional 2000 feet!
As Sherry parked the Toyota right behind a canary yellow Hummer, she grabbed her iPhone to text Taylor and Hunter that she was there to pick them up. Little that these kids knew, but dear ol’ mom was going to take these kids on a little adventure. She was going to show them all of the Christmas sights and sounds that were accessible, and show them what this season is all about!
After hitting the ‘send’ button on her phone, Sherry saw that the kids at the school were starting to exit the building. This meant that school was over for the day, and for the rest of the calendar year. Now began the every present bonding moment she would have with her offspring. This was going to be the moment where for the first time in quite a while, she was going to become the ideal mom that she wanted to be; a mom that can bond with her kids as a single parent. There would be no father figure to be concerned about, and she knew that she had all of the support she can get thanks to the many online “friends” she possesses. Many of these friends are moms (or so they say based on their profile page) that express the same feelings and emotions nearly every time they log on. One mom named Karen posted: "Being a mom to your kids is like a good friendship: It’s not about whom you have known the longest, but it’s about who came and never left your side!"
OK..so this quote was far from original (Karen copied and pasted these lines from some other website found in cyberspace land), but it was all that Sherry has to work with at that moment. Borrowed advice was a lot better than none at all!
The kids were now exiting the school building in droves. Many of these students were lugging hugh backpacks, full of textbooks, school supplies and other tweener propaganda such as electronic devices. Most of these same kids were also donning impressive looking jackets and sweaters as the middle December weather was taking its mark. (Partly cloudy and 49 degrees as stated on Sherry’s weather app.) These kids were either piling into some of the parked cars standing along the curb, or getting aboard on a fleet of school busses awaiting not to far away. The rest of this bunch would walk to their designated destinations. Sherry tried to keep careful eye of Hunter and Taylor that would be part of this crowd of kids that were ready to spend two weeks away from school for a what seemed to be a very long holiday break.
She didn’t have to wait long as she saw Hunter and Taylor among the gatherings. Hunter was speaking to his posse, exchanging words as well as sending text messages to one another even though they were only standing two feet apart. Taylor was with her girls (or “girlz” as she would refer them as), as they were talking and texting as well. After they completed their communication, they broke free of their respected gangs to head over to Sherry’s car to begin a bit of holiday cheer.
“Mom. I’ve got an indoor soccer meet today and then I have a basketball game to attend later!” said Hunter as he was piling in the front seat of the Toyota.
“And later on, I’m meeting up with Cici, Sheri, Berlin, Sherrie, and “Old School” Debbie to head over to the mall” said Taylor, as she was boarding her back seat space.
“Hold it! You are not going to do those things today!” Sherry said in defense.
“Why not? I already sent a text to everyone saying I’m going to meet them there!’ Taylor said, protesting the fact that her day’s schedule was going to be ruined.
“I told you kids that we were going to take some time out to have a little Christmas cheer! We would going to act a family for once!”
“So what am I going to tell my girlz?” Taylor replied.
“You just tell them that you are not going to make it today and you are going to be with your brother and I!”
“That’s so lame, Mom! I spend enough time with you guys as it is!”
“Maybe so, but today we are going to spend quality time, and that time is right now!”
Taylor let off a pout of disappointment. She was really looking forward to hanging around with her BFFs that day. But now that was all scrubbed thanks to her mom’s ideas. Although she was aware that mom knew well in what she wanted to do, Taylor felt that at her age she must be out on her own. She would become an adult in nine years (meaning she would be of drinking age), and she might as well start getting ready for this lifestyle milestone, even though it was almost a decade away!
As Sherry and Taylor was exchanging their last few words over this family time antics, Hunter wasn’t paying much attention to this conversation. Once he got into the car, he pulled out his iPod Nano, placed the earbuds firmly into his ear, and started to play the tunes that only he can hear. This time around, it was cuts from Nirvana's Greatest Hits, a band that was at its peak long before this kid was born. Around the school, it was considered to be cool if a kid programed tunes into their iPods and iPhones recorded by musical artists that came from another era, were dead, or both! One of Hunter’s posse members Jackson had over 6000 pre-1990 songs programmed in his IPad, including selections from bands that became famous from MTV exposure. Another kid only known as “Smerf” has a whole library of songs from bands that cater to the Goth crowd. (99% came from illegal downloads, but don’t tell anybody this!) And Ambrose claims he had everything recorded by Elvis Costello socked into his iPhone, including the entire live concert performed in Hamburg in the summer of ‘91 featuring The Rude 5!!
“Mom, I promised my girlz that I would--”
“Well you unpromise those girls that you won’t be able to make it today! We three will be together and that’s that! You got it?” stated Sherry in her best I’m-The-Person-In -Charge type voice.
Taylor let another pout, as she pulled her iPhone from her jacket pocket and started to text a message to her gang stating that she wasn’t to meet them as planned. Hunter on the other hand, was too deep in his music with the ear buds still planted into his lobes. It seems that the buildup of earwax serves as a nice insulator to keep inside sounds in and outside sounds out.
As Taylor was texting her girlz and Hunter was listening to “Aneurysm" from his iPod, Sherry started the car to drive off for a day and supposedly evening’s worth of family fun and holiday bonding.
A FIFTY FOOT TALL CHRISTMAS tree stood right in the center of the town’s square. This tree, located right smack dab in the middle of the city’s main park, was loaded with the standard seasonal lights and ornaments one would expect on a tree of this magnitude. On the very top of the tree was an electric star made of a dozens of white lights that blinked and “raced” much like an old movie theater marquee used to do when movie theater had marquees. A coat of fake snow was placed on and around the tree since it was a very mild winter (so far) and regional temps never got below 40 degrees, meaning that this season would be a rather brown one. A loudspeaker underneath the tree blasted the usual mix of tired sounding tunes that folks already got sick of hearing again and again. Around the square, people were hustling in and out admiring the tree. Not too far off, a oversized menora was placed with some of its blue and white bulbs lit. And nearby was yet another holiday based icon that Sherry could not identify. (She was never into world religions.) But the whole idea of being at this place was to show off the huge tree and what it stood for.
Sherry Taylor and Hunter were standing at the base of the tree. Sherry would crane her neck upward to see how tall this thing was. Taylor was also looking at the tree, but with mild amusement. Hunter was gawking at the tree as well, but he still had his iPod on with earbuds glued on (with earwax, ‘natch) listening to some U2 album track.
“That’s one of the biggest and most prettiest trees I’ve seen all year!” Sherry said to her kids. “When I was your age, I always wanted to have a tree like this one!”
“Well, we don’t even have a bush, so why bother to ask?” Taylor replied, acting a bit cocky over her mom’s remark. Hunter didn’t say a word since he still has his iPod cooking and couldn’t hear a thing!
“We don’t have a tree because you kids didn’t want one!” Sherry replied, hoping to give Taylor a bit of a guilt trip. Actually, the real reason why Sherry didn’t have a tree in their home was the fact that she thought that putting up a tree, even a small was, was too much of a hassle. Besides, in order to enjoy the season, one can do so without a tree!
“Well...this tree is nice I guess!” said Taylor, trying to fight the boredom she was experiencing that moment.
“Why don’t we head on over to Puddledrip’s department store and see what kind of decorations they have there? It’s a short walk from here, so we can go by foot!’ OK?” said Sherry, still making an attempt to bring a bit of excitement in this excursion.
“Whatever, mom!” Taylor replied. Hunter, on the other hand, was still silent. He still had his iPod on with earbuds affixed listening to some Ramones tune.
PUDDLEDRIP’S DEPARTMENT STORE WAS one of the last of the old fashioned stand alone stores that many domestic urban cities used to host. Although Puddledrip’s was part of a larger retail conglomerate that has outlets located at the better malls as well as having a shop-at-home website, this store still has its feel and look from the so-called “classic” days of retailing. The store itself hasn’t be remodeled since 1954. However, its once tired look had made a comeback over the last few years when anything “retro’” looking were all the rage.
As Sherry and her clan entered the store from one of the street entrances, she noted all of the decorations that were fixed upon every nook and cranny. There were the selection of lights, along with silver bows and tinsel all around. Ornaments colored in shades of red, green, blue, and white were placed along showcase displays, counter tops, and along posts around the massive rooms in this store. People were also there in masses, looking for anything on sale that could be purchased as a gift. Since Halloween, this store offered discounts as much as 60% in order for people to stop in and to buy anything! There were also signs around to open a charge account where one can get as much as 10% off anything purchased with that card. Of course, there were restrictions, such as one had to keep the card active for two years and would agree to pay an interest rate of 21%. (See Puddledrip’s website for more details!)
As Sherry and company were going down the isles, she was pointing toward many of the decorations around, as well as the hustle and bustle of people going to and fro looking for bargains to perhaps buy something of value.
“This store was one of the best places to visit during Christmas when I was your age!” Sherry, still on her nostalgia trip, told her daughter. “I used to look for the roving carolers that would sing Christmas Carols to passers by! Wouldn’t that be fun to see?”
“I guess!” sighed Taylor, still finding this junket rather dull. Hunter didn’t reply due to his the blasting of some Smashing Pumpkins tune going inside of his waxy eardrums.
“Hey! I know! Why don’t we see Santa? That would be oh, such fun!”
Taylor sighed again. Hunter didn’t say a thing.
The Santa section was located on the second floor, right next to the “youth” clothing department. This section was mostly for girls aged 8 to around 14, meaning that the style and selection would change ever six or so weeks. Even though is was December, most of what was on display was geared toward the spring season, each item decked out in bright garish colors, making sure that enough item (both above and below the waist) would expose enough skin that would still be considered legal in most communities.
As Sherry and her kids rode up the escalator to the second level, they found the Santa section that consisted of a cleared out area lined up with a group of Christmas trees decked out in the usual decorations. In the middle of this fake forest was a throne-type chair colored cherry red. Seated in the middle of this chair was Santa, or actually, a part time temp employee that was pulling in a minimal wage salary without receiving any company benefits.
“Hey! There’s Santa. Why don’t we pay him a visit and ask him what we want for Christmas?” Sherry said in a tone of voice that mimicked the same voice mom Abigail used when Sherry was just a wee tot.
“Mom! Do we really have to do this?” I’d just rather hang with my girls!” Taylor protested, hoping that none of her girlz would see her doing something that wasn’t age appropriate.
“It’s just for this time! Let’s just wait in lane, OK?” Sherry replied, still trying to hold some kind of enthusiasm in doing this Christmas ordeal.
And the three took their place in line to visit this Santa, Sherry noticed the others in line. Right behind was a woman in her middle 30’s toting a girl in the late single digits. Right in front was a man also in his middle 30’s with a boy that appeared to be the same age as the young girl behind them. The boy was keeping himself busy by playing an Angry Birds game app from his dad’s(?) iPhone.
Before too long, Sherry and kids were next in line. As they waited, another temp minimum wage employee, donning a cheesy looking elf costume, was holding up a Nikon digital camera with flash gun attachment.
“Ma’m? We can take a picture of Santa and your kids for only $12.95, and we can upload those pictures to your smart phone or Facebook page!”
Sherry looked at this employees and have a humble “Not today, thanks!”
As soon as this “elf” finished the commercial offer, it was now time for Sherry and the kids to step up to speak with Santa.
“Ho! Ho! Would you like to sit on Santa’s lap and ask what you would want for Christmas?” said “Santa”, addressing this inquiry to Taylor.
“I’m not sitting on your lap! I may be a kid, but I’m not stupid!” replied Taylor as she knew enough about current sexual abuse and harassment laws that Sherry taught her.
“So why don’t stand near Santa and ask what would you would like for Christmas?” Santa said as this employee successfully got out of a sticky situation by dealing with kids that know too much.
“I’ll keep my distance, thank you!” Taylor replied, making sure that she keeps at least three feet away for this guy for her own safety.
“Ho, Ho! Then tell Santa just want you want for Christmas?” he said again, knowing that this kid wasn’t to be too easy to deal with.
“I just want to be left alone!’” And with that remark, Taylor stormed out from the Santa area, leaving through the exit.
As Sherry saw her daughter leave in a huff, now it was time for Hunter’s turn to state his Christmas wishes to this Santa guy. However, he seemed rather oblivious to what was going on. He still had his iPod on with earbuds affixed within his eardrums, listening to cuts from the Yessongs album.
“Hunter? Do you want to see Santa right now? Sherry asked.
He looked up toward his mom, seeing that she was trying to say something to him, but could not hear anything because of the music blasting. So he turned his iPod off, and pulled one of the earbuds out of his ear, making a faint ‘pop’ sound.
“Huh? What?” he replied, not knowing what was really going on.
“Do you want to ask Santa what you want for Christmas”? Sherry asked him.
He looked at his mom for a second, then turned and looked as Santa, then looking back at mom. Upon this volley of looks, he gave his answer fair and honest.
“Not really!”
And with than, he stepped away from where Santa was sitting and headed toward the exit, placing his earbud back into his waxy earlobe, and continued with his music.
Sherry turned toward Santa and the elf assistant, still holding the digital camera. “I’m sorry. I guess my kids aren’t into this Santa thing today, but thanks anyway!”
“No worries”! said the elf, seeing that such an episode wasn’t as unusual to witness as many kids find that being forced to tell a guy dressed up in a cheap Santa suit on what they want for Christmas isn’t as appealing as it may have been.
As Sherry left the Santa area, another kid, a six year old girl, plopped herself upon Santa’s lap to read off a list of goods she wanted that would make the Walt Disney Company very pleased.
After exiting Puddledrip’s, the three started to take a walk outside. Near the store was an outdoor mall area. In the spring and summer months, this strip of narrow park and walkway would serve as a farmer’s market. In the fall, it became a pumpkin patch. Now in the wintertime, the entire area was all decked out with strings of Italian white lights all over the tress that lined up the walkways. On a short heighten brick wall was a ream of real holly and mistletoe, making the entire mall area as festive as it could be for the season.
Sherry and her clan were taking a walk along this mall, showing off her kids how festive the area looked. However, it appeared that Taylor and Hunter was losing interest and fast! Taylor was tempted to pull her iPhone from her pocket to make some quickie calls and/or text, while Hunter still was with his music.
“Look kids! Somebody’s carrying a whole load of Christmas presents! One even looks like a wrapped teddy bear!” Sherry pointed to a couple of younger looking guys who were loaded to the brim with gayly colored packages, including a wrapped item that could have contained an unboxed teddy bear.
“Mom? Can we go home or something? I’ve had enough!” protested Taylor.
Hunter did not say a word. He was listening to the first side of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon.
Sherry right then and there realized that this little Christmas themed excursion wasn’t working out too well. It appeared that the only one of the bunch that was getting something out of the sights and sounds was Sherry. The real audience was supposed to be her kids who were taking everything as one big bother. So Sherry decided that enough was enough, only to walk back to the nearby parking garage to head on over home. At least she tried her best to make things work!
IT WAS NOW THE MORNING OF December 23rd aka Christmas Eve eve. This was crunch time for the retailers for convincing their potential customers to spend away! Things were marked down as much as 60%, and time was already running out!
Ditto for Sherry. Christmas day was just a scant forty eight hours off--give or take! On her blog, she expressed her concerns. "My kids don’t just seem to care that the holidays are about neigh. I have done everything I could to get them enthused. I took them to the mall. i showed them the tree in the town square. I even took them to a karaoke bar to sing Christmas songs. I did what I could, and all I got was nothing in return! Is there something wrong that’s going on, or am I just trying too hard?"
On Sherry’s Facebook wall, fellow “friend” Sarah commented "Maybe you are! Just give your kids a little space, and they will be fine. They are growing up, so treat them like a potted plant and stop watering them too much! You don’t want a watered down plant just like to don’t want watered down kids-LOL!!!" Sarah must have hit the nail on the head as eighteen others “liked” this comment.
So she did what a mom is supposed to by letting her kids be. Just as long as they didn’t get in any kind of trouble, they would be OK, or OK for the moment!
BY NOW, THIS WRITER ASSUMES that you the reader has gone through enough sessions of eye strain attempting to gawk at this little tale, so we will move on in the story, bringing the antics to Christmas morning! (That’s December 25th in case you needed to know!)
On this morning, Sherry’s little condo was quite as a wireless mouse rigged to her MacBook. The bright sunshine came through the eastern faced windows. The family room where much of the living takes place had a Ikea coffee table (complete with water rings defacing the table top) with a foot high plastic tree sitting in the center. The tree itself has a few plastic red and green balls affixed to its branches with a few white lights placed around the tree (All made in China!) Also on the coffee table were a few scattering Christmas cards sent by folks that still believe in sending real cards in the real mail. (Sherry herself sent a total of 86 “cards” via e-mail to selected members of her family, her real friends, and her virtual friends!) Near the cards and tree was a plastic serving dish loaded with jive Christmas cookies (called “Holiday Cookies” from the baking company) in various states of disarray.
Sherry rose around 8:00 AM, knowing that not only the day was a holiday, but it was Sunday, meaning it would be a quiet morning. She thought her kids would be up, running to the family room to see what kinds of gifts they got this year. Even though they have everything they wanted (well, almost everything since Hunter did hint for the latest version of the iPad), perhaps things would be different. Then again, maybe not!
As she stumbled out from her bedroom down toward the family room, she noticed that it was perhaps too quiet. Were Taylor and Hunter awake? If they were, they didn’t make it obvious. Perhaps they were outside (doing what?), or maybe they were in the kitchen, or maybe they were---
Just then, Sherry’s phone rang with a lame version of Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas performed by the seventh season finalist from American Idol that didn’t sing the tune, but wailed it adding a lot of ‘woo-hoos’ throughout.
She ran back into her bedroom to retrieved the phone. “H’lo?” she said, wondering who would be calling her on Christmas morn.
“Mom! Look at what we have in the family room!” said the voice.
“Taylor? Is that you? Where are you, and where’s Hunter?” Sherry asked the mysterious voice on the phone.
“Just come downstairs!” the voice suggested.
Sherry proceeded to head downstairs. (This was a two story condo with the bedrooms and main bath upstairs and the rest of the rooms down below.) The family room area was already bathed with sunlight peering through those easterly windows as the official weather report read sunny and 42 degrees; Not really cold but cold enough.
Upon her entrance into the family den, Sherry looked about only to see nobody present. The tree was still on the table. Ditto for the cards and busted up Christmas/Holiday cookies. But noting out of the ordinary, or so it looked like such at first.
Sherry went over to the table, and upon the pile of cards that were piled up like a collapsed house of cards was a sealed cherry red envelope. She didn’t notice it at first, but then she did since the rest of the cards were rather worn through general misuse. (Many cards were used as “quickie” coasters where many a beverage container was placed upon them to not leave more water rings on the table surface).
She grabbed the envelope and opened it. Inside was another “real” Christmas card that originated from Cleveland than Kansas City. On the card was a cartoon likeness of Santa with a smart phone in hand texting away. Inside was a pre addressed description that read “Wishing all A Gd nite LOL :-)” Below that was a hand written note that read:
Mom....
Hunter and I know that you were doing your best to bring us some of the holiday cheer that’s been all around us. Is isn’t like we don’t appreciate it and all, but we wanted to show you what you taught us; how to be independent while being a family. In these times being a family is real important, and we know how important it is to become a family. One day if we ever have kids of our own, we will teach them the same principals (sic) you tried to teach us. We must bond together while being just who and what we are.
Thank you mom for showing us the way, and have a very merry Christmas and a happy near year, too! (Signed), Taylor and Hunter.
Sherry looked at that card for a second, and then started to cry. Not just a single tear or anything, but a good sob session that she hasn't had since she saw Titanic for the 17th time. She was really touched by this card, and it showed.
Just then, a cry from the kitchen was heard. “Merry Christmas Mom”! Just then, Taylor and Hunter came into the room. Hunter was holding up a decorated box with a pink bow sitting on top. They paraded into the room to hand mom her gift.
“Is this for me?” Sherry said, looking at this decorate box.
“I think so!” he said, while Taylor gave him a slight push.
Sherry grabbed the box from his hands. Acting like a kid their age, she quickly opened the package, wondering what her kids awarded her this time around.
After the last tear of the wrapping unfolded, she saw what her kids got her. Right on the box was a photo of what was inside along with the name of this device as well as the company’s fruit based logo: a MacBook Air.
“We through it’s something you could use to write your blogs and stuff!” said Taylor.
“Yeah, and it’s also something I could use, too!” added Hunter, as his sibling have him a shove in the real hinting that he might has said something he shouldn’t.
After Sherry started at the box for a moment, she asked them, “Kids...how did you manage to get this for me?”
“We saved a lot of money in the last few months. I also did a few after school jobs too, mostly baby sitting the Anderson’s kids when you thought I was at gymnastics practice.”
“Yeah, I even helped out by working a few spots, too instead of playing soccer. Hauk and I even helped out some old dude in getting to level 9 in ‘Nukeem Nook’, and paid us for it too!” (Sherry didn’t quite understand what he was saying by that last line, but at that moment, it didn’t matter!)
Sherry, still blubbering over this act of kindness, said in a cracking squeaking voice “You are really my family. I love you all!” And with that, she placed the box down, and grabbed her two kids into one giant bear hug.
“Merry Christmas, mom!” said Taylor.
“Meefy kismush mmff”, replied Hunter, being smothered from this moment of joy.
It seemed that this point of the story would be the perfect ending to one of those TV movies that air during The Hallmark Hall of Fame, or any of the melodramas that take space on Lifetime’s cluttered schedule. (Outside of a “disease-of-the-week” or “woman-in-peril” yarn!) To be quite honest, it did resemble a happy-type ending, but there is an epilogue.
A few weeks later, long after the season was done and over with and many of the retailers were hawking Valentine’s Day crap as well as hosting an occasional President’s Day sale, Sherry was sitting along the kitchen table, pecking away at the Macbook. She was just adding another one of her entries on her Facebook page.
"You don’t know what life is all about until of have some great people all around you. Those two great people are my own kids! They are the best ones to ever have. They will learn quite a lot in their lives ahead of them. Even when the day comes when I’m dead and gone, they will be the ones to take upon their legacy, and do so with high hopes and dreams. I say to them, “Rock on!”
And 1,367 of her virtual friends all gave their “likes” too!
SMALL PRINT DEPARTMENT. The story (C) 2011 Linear Cycle Productions. All Rights Reserved. All brand names used in this story are trademarks of their respectful owners and were used as creative expression under the Fair Use Doctrine (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fair_use). And no, nobody paid us for all of these mentions as part of commercial product placement although we won’t mind if somebody did grease our palms here and there, but that’s for another short story topic! Keep watching this space for further developments!
Become “friends” with Sherry at
http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=100002842321177&sk=wall
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http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=100002842321177&sk=wall
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