Getting Through Mistfit Toy Syndrome With A Little Help From The Thanksgiving Elves
Misfit Toys
It's that time of year again. I've been having my annual internal battle with myself to remain upbeat and positive about the holiday. I've planned a party, baked cookies, bought a Christmas tree and Satsumas. I'm almost done with my Christmas shopping.But that nasty little Christmas gremlin is still in there, festering. I tell myself it's residual grief – Christmas and his birthday crammed together in an extra-special helping of grief-nog. But if it was really a grief-nog hangover, then why don't I get this during other holidays?Maybe it's the gifting thing that gets me down. I know this is going to sound stupid, and surely it's a residual effect of a child of divorce or bad TV Christmas specials, but I actually feel sorry for the misfit toys and gifts (thanks Rudolf!). All those unwanted, unloved sweaters and candles that will never be lit, that sit on shelves, gathering dust, lonely... I can't write any more, it's going to make me cry. Clearly I related to those misfit toys on some deep, unconscious level. I'm the girl who cried when my family, during a Christmas trip to Mexico thought it would fun to bash the crap out of a cute bunny pinata. Yeah, I'm THAT girl. Don't judge me.By the way, I just have to love on this post about The Island of Misfit Toys.The doll is a trannie. What's not to love about misfit toys?My only solution to avoiding Misfit Toy Syndrome is to trick myself into thinking it's Thanksgiving. All those lovely FB posts saying what we are all grateful for? We need more of that at this time of year.So, Thanksgiving elves, here's what I'm grateful for:
A girl who flew home last night from the east coast (not without a little drama), safe and sound and oh, so grateful to be home to have her mama do her laundry and cook her favorite Jambalaya.
A boy who wakes up each morning an inch taller and a smidge wiser and who makes me laugh when he pulls faces that are the exact replicas of his father's.
A friend who loves and supports me even in her depleted candied-brain state.
A boyfriend who I cherish for his wisdom, patience, kindness, his love of me and my family, and the way he manages to make filthy every single article of clothing he owns.
A dog who can jump four feet in the air, thinks nothing of stepping on your face to get anywhere she needs to go, who flops down beside the heat register below the kitchen sink looking dead and who "speaks" alien.
A family who can make me spew champagne through my nose in laughter, enable my near-obsession with the 4th Line Theatre, howl at the moon with me, guide my sense of fashion, and say it like it is.
I hope that despite my Christmas gremlin and bad case of Misfit Toy Syndrome, I can give just a little bit of all that back this year.Happy Thanksgiving everyone and "To All A Good Night!"