So today my big project was to get the kids' picture taken with Santa. Sure, we did that last night, but it's not really Christmas unless you get suckered into buying $27 worth of pictures from the mall.
Plus, it's tradition and I try not to fuck with it.
Olivia told this Santa she wanted a "variety of purses with jewelry in them" and Jackson wants a kite. Um yeah. Neither of them are getting any of that. But what was funny was Jackson. He's a total fucking ham and I love it. ESPECIALLY when Matt drinks all of the milk and doesn't tell me so the kids end up having Kool Aid with their breakfast because I'm not dragging all of us to the gas station 3 blocks away in the snow to get a gallon of milk that is easily $3 more than at the grocery store.
The lady told the kids to put their hands in their lap and while Olivia can do it nice and casual, Jackson is making damn sure his are in his lap. They she told them to smile and she took three pictures. In hindsight, I should have gotten the one with his face all squinched up. She was telling Olivia to smile big but Jackson took direction like a pro and was really hamming it up. But yeah. There they are in all their cuteness.
I forgot to mention our Ghetto Christmas 2010 update. The six foot Santa who appeared to be drunk and masturbating (he had a mechanical arm and while slumped over it really looked like he was trying to jerk one out) has died. R.I.P. Santa. Matt says he has to kick him to get him up and it's only for a few minutes. At least our Ghetto Christmas 2010 theme is going strong.
But while there I realize that Superior is a really disgusting place. I mean, I'm walking through and there are a lot of really dirty people. All of them are buying beer, chips, pickles, ketchup and haven't showered in days. Really? How 'bout you put the pickles back and wash your pickle? Because you kind of stink. Meaning, I can smell you from the other aisle. And it's pretty fucking gross.
Then there were these women who seriously- need to step away from the Aqua Net. The tall bangs haven't been in since what? Mid 80's? Maybe late 80's? Let's try a new trend. But they have their huge hair and blue eyeshadow and their nails are all different lengths with chipped polish and gross. Please stop picking through the fucking produce with your nasty fucking hands. Your fingernails? Shouldn't be yellow. You need to see a doctor about that.
But the topper? The fucking icing on the cake? Was the 6'3 super obese guy, wearing a shirt that was easily three sizes too small, he's filthy, he has a cart full of sausage, pork, fish in a clear tub, beer, mustard, and Doritos. He has fat rolls hanging out of his shirt (and the skin is visibly very dirty with something smeared on it), he's wearing sweatpants with a huge stain on the ass which I get a full view of when he bends over and in the process rams his cart into me. And then?? THEN? He starts coughing. Oh does he cough. He coughs hard enough that I felt spittle hit my face. Keep in mind- he's behind me. There is his cart AND my cart (since I'm standing in front of my cart loading the conveyor belt) between us. Yet... I feel spittle. Then I look at my bag of grapes. I have one in the line of fire, another on the belt already. I ended up bagging the contaminated grapes separately and throwing them away. He may have had tuberculosis or something. And I think they are supposed to be in lock down or something. I don't know. But I'm sick enough as it is and I don't want whatever he has. Maybe he's a hoarder and infected with some super mold germ and is dying by coughing out bits of lung onto other people's grapes. I don't know. Even the cashier muttered, "I hate my fucking job." Girl- I'm with you. I'd hate that too. Because you KNOW he's going to pay with cash and it'll be all gross and full of germs. She might die. Sad day.
That was my night so far and it's only 7:15.