Santa's Naughty List

IF my older two believed in Santa. And IF Santa really kept a naughty list. And IF they'd only receive a lump of coal if they were bad.

My budget for Christmas would be in cherry shape right now.

"Why?", you ask. Well, because, within the past few days, the following has occured:

1. An entire can of anti-perspirant was discharged, by a brother who had been caught by yours truly when he was originally walking around the house with the can and a roll of tape. He was turned away from his brother's bedroom and told to return the stash to its proper place.

Apparently, when I went to finish a couple of errands, the entire bomb making operation was re-mantled by my domestic terrorist in training. Tape was used to hold the spray trigger and ALL the clothing in the closet was "painted", the side of the desk took a shellacking, and the floor became a canvas.

I noticed the piquant smell of off-brand baby powder in the air when I returned. Since no one but me should be using something so femininely scented, I inquired to the source of the smell. Mike, I found out, had already begun the "airing out" process, but the duct system was now distributing the odorific funk to every room in the house.

The big discovery of the evening was that the powdery portion of anti-perspirant can travel. And land in the most odd of places, such as the kitchen, atop drinking glasses. I became keenly aware of this truth when I took a big swig of my drink and TASTED Arrid Extra Dry Regular Scent.

This whole operation occured somewhere between 2-3pm. It is now almost 8pm and I still can't go near the room without my eyes starting to itch and water.

2. Since our house was almost completely uninhabitable, we decided a family outing was in order to keep us all from developing "Arrid lung".

Since we had adopted five senior citizens from a local nursing home, we thought it would be a good idea to go shopping for them. All was going well until our last stop. We managed to make it through the 99 cent store and the mall without incident. Finally we were in Target*.

This particular store was designed in 1545 by someone with no sense of direction. To get to the electronics department to buy Mr. Weaver the radio he requested, we had to navigate grocery, stationary, doggy goods, and, finally, toys.

It was in the toy department that a brother "outed" the big gift for the the terrorist**. I'm guessing this was in retaliation for the anti-perspirant bomb. But, it could just be boys gone wild behavior. Times five trillion.

I'm just super glad that sound is muffled by shelving at big box stores because one of the brothers got a tongue lashing that might have caused those without children to wonder if he had called in a threat to the President.

This should have been an outing where we were focused on the joy of being able to give to others. All I could think about was giving someone a really good whack on the behind. Or banging heads together like coconuts, all Three Stooges style.

3. The anti-perspirant terrorist destroyed a neighbor's bike helmet. The cause of the destruction is no longer under investigation but we are just never going to speak of it again.

Ever Again.


Net result?

a. Two Nowell boys are on Santa's merde list

b. One young man owes the Nowell budget for a bike helmet AND a can of anti-perspirant

c. The previously instituted grounding of one brother continues on its merry way. The terrorist is joining him in the pursuit of better behavior by removal of playtime, TV, and anything that smells, feels, or looks remotely good or fun.

OH! And since writing this post, I've discovered a second aerosal bomb, in the top of the bathroom wastebasket***. This one? A can of spray starch, which was used all over the floors of the terrorist's room to create a sticky mess. I guess my boy didn't think the hardwoods were hard enough.

Looming in the near future are 1) an end-of-the-year business trip for Mike, which, I'm convinced, was perfectly planned to screw with me**** and 2) two-plus weeks of Christmas vacation.

Tomorrow, while the kids are in school, I'm going to attempt to clean the mess, decide where all the aerosals in my house really should live, and buy some preemptive wine, just in case things spiral out-of-control before 2011 arrives.

But, most importantly, I'm going to Saran Wrap the interior of two stockings, just in case Santa really DOES leave coal.....


*Target store planners: you JUST remodeled this particular location. As I was waiting in the electronics department, I noticed a MAP, created for my convenience. HELLO? If I need a map to navigate your store, I'm taking my business elsewhere.

**I knew he'd been snooping, I just didn't know how MUCH he'd been snooping. Now I do.

***The term "hiding the evidence" has never been introduced to the under twelve set in my house.

****"Hey, honey! We just finished our little company Christmas get together and I got to try a $200 bottle of Merlot! Who knew red was SOOO good? Here comes the steaming hot entree of crab fingers and Angus beef with a side of asparagus. The molten chocolate cake is coming later. What did you have for dinner?" CLICK. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.