So sometimes when New Year's Day rolls around, I have an overwhelming urge to purge my house of all things Christmas related. This year the urge to purge struck which is why, at nine a.m., with a minor alcohol-induced headache, Jillian and I were removing the ornaments from Tom Cruise. It would have been even earlier but I also had an urge to wax my brows and 'stache (TMI? Perhaps). A great activity to do when you were one with the blender and Kahlua mere hours before. Anyhow, back to the urge to purge Christmas gobbledygook, and taking the decorations down and off of Tom Cruise Tree ... Now I know Jillian is two and a half and not the most delicate flower, but even accounting for her toddler toughness, I have to say, I think Tom was MIGHTY PISSED to be loosing his ornamentation.
Holy friggen needles Batman - and this is only one pile! Tom lost, maybe, fifty needles before today. And those fifty needles, they started dropping AFTER Christmas. Tom had some longevity. He also had a drinking problem as he was consuming ninety-six ounces of water EVERY DAY for TWO AND A HALF weeks. SERIOUSLY? I assume all of that water was what kept him beneedled? In any event, he dropped a few as he aged. Up 'til today when he full on revolted and went from full and beautiful to Charlie Brownesque.
Tom's revenge on his early departure did not end with his massive shed, oh no, it ended on when he sent me careening down my yard on my ass in a bra-less, wife beater, legging and flip-flop wearing state. Yes. That's right. We were taking Tom out to the side of the garage and I thought it would be no big thing so I didn't actually dress accordingly (accordingly to being seen by other humans, like say my neighbors, as I slid past them on my ass). I had on no makeup, in fact, my face probably had that red puffy look of the freshly waxed, my hair was held up with two different hair things, I did not have on a bra, but I did have on a tight white wife beater tank top. With leggings. And flip flops. And after I dropped Tom Cruise on his balding butt, he pushed me, and I slipped on the snow onto my butt, which, in a sign that maybe I need to lay off the cookies acted like a SLED and launched me down the yard along the side of my driveway. Boobs were flopping and GODDAMMITS were flying. Happy New Year's indeed!