I’m Dreaming of a White Elephant…
This year, X-mas, formerly known as Twitter-mas, is “almost” failure-proof for me. How is that possible you readers of my Christmases past, want to know? Simple, three wise men (actually, it was my stepdaughter, Christy) proclaimed that the only gift required this year is one white elephant gift! For those of you unfamiliar with the ancient ritual of the white elephant gift, it kinda goes like this…
Many, many eves ago, a strange white elephant appeared in a tiny village in a land far, far away. At first the locals were thrilled by this phenomenon and they followed him everywhere and all took turns chiseling selfies of themselves and their new friend onto stone tablets.
But Packy was not the most energetic of white elephants and would often just abruptly sit down, which was not all that great for those close followers. Though this was the beginning of a new peoples known as the flatlanders, the others thought maybe this was a bad omen and they gifted Packy to another village. This village experienced similar problems and in turn gifted Packy to yet another village. This went on and on until the last village ended up with Packy forever. (Source: Erniepedia)
Nowadays, white elephant gifts are usually much smaller and don’t smell quite as bad. Names are put into a Santa hat, and one is picked out and that person chooses any wrapped gift under the tree. They open it and everyone oohs and aahs and the next person can either pick any gift under the tree or they can “steal” the first person’s gift. This often causes much laughter and the occasional cuss word. But the first person gets to pick another gift, often begging someone to steal it. More laughter ensues, until one person gets stuck with the worst gift of the year. They in turn often tip over the Christmas tree onto said gift giver.
These groaner gifts are where I excel. Just ask anyone in our family who has received one of my presents in the past.
“Bourbon-flavored gingerbread people? Seriously?”
“I know, huh? Betcha weren’t expecting that.”
“I’m only ten. I asked for a truck. Here, you keep it!”
“If you insist. Hey, can I get a Diet Coke chaser over here?”
Plus, not that I need to rock my jingle bell anymore, but we have a gift-spending limit this year of twenty bucks! That’s even less than I spent last year.”
“What the heck is that?”
“It’s a potato with my face professionally super-imposed onto it by a company in Idaho.”
“I just lost my appetite.”
“That’s okay! It’s much better if you stick it somewhere special until it sprouts. Then you can plant it and have a whole garden of, well, me! Whataya think now, huh?”
“I’m thinking of the special place I want to stick it.”
Previous years I delighted all with things like sloth-paw socks, a jalapeño pizza blanket, and a yodeling pickle.
“Who wants to vote Ernie off the gifter’s list?
“I do.” “I do.” “I do.” “I do.”
The other reason to be ho-ho-hoing during this chestnut-roasting time of year is that the huge, use-every-dish-glass-spoon-fork-and-knife-in-the-house dinner is not at our house! So, I won’t be expected to clean-up after the onslaught.
“Wait! Be careful of grandma’s crystal…”
“Oops. No problemo. Anyone got duct tape?”
Plus, I won’t even be expected to prepare a gourmet meal.
“You cubed an entire honey-baked ham?”
“Cool, right? I cubed everything so we can all make food forts. I even made little flags out of asparagus. I read about it on Pinterest.”
“Who wants to vote Ernie off Pinterest?
“I do.” “I do.” “I do.” “I do.”
The only hiccup in this year’s plan is that I ordered my white elephant gift from Instagram. “Someone’s gonna love this!”
“Right. I wouldn’t stand too close to the tree, though.”
But, said treasure has not yet arrived. Once again, I was fooled by the term “ships immediately” written in several foreign languages. But I have a backup plan… “Can I help you?”
“Yes. I need the most unusual thing you have in the store for $19.99 and I need it fast!”
“Excuse me… ‘Hello? Security? We have another weird white elephant guy on the loose.’”
