Every year I get more and more excited about this tradition; I love the idea of having new artists with completely different styles capturing our family each year and I love the results even more (here are 2009 and 2010). Happy holidays, everyone.
This blog post is not sponsored by anyone. It seems like half the blogs in my reader are doing sponsored posts half the time these days, and as much as I'd like a little more pocket money I am glad I decided to stop doing those. I hated bending over backward to avoid looking like a total sellout (which only made me look a sellout stuck in some stupid yoga pose). Sponsored posts pay really well (which is why it is so hard to turn them down). Whatever. It's just unfortunate that the toy store doesn't accept smugness as a form of currency. Looks like I'll be whittling the Christmas presents this year.
Another bit of meta-nonsense you probably don't care about: some time ago I ended up on all these mommyblogger e-mail lists and I get at least 200 e-mails a day addressed "Dear Mom Blogger." I always respond like this:
Dear [marketer who just called me a mom],
I have a penis.
This has had little effect on the number of these e-mails I get every day, but it does make me happy to know I've made all those marketing drones think about my penis. One time some marketer from a sex store in Berkeley offered me a free "mommy's playdate with vibrator demonstrations, cocktails, cupcakes, complimentary goodie bags and the chance to win a sexy starter kit!" This was my response:
Dear [marketer who just invited me to a playdate with vibrators],
Consider this my RSVP for the upcoming Mommy Playdate.
BTW, I have a penis (hope that's okay!).
I was sadly dis-invited to the mommy vibrator playdate. Stupid penis: I really wanted to attend that "after-hours mixer with like-minded moms who want to put the spice back in their sex lives." The marketer was a peach though; she still let me enter the drawing for the sexy starter kit (didn't win, sad trombone).
These marketing e-mails get really bad this time of year, with dozens arriving every day to suggest items for my holiday gift guide. I didn't even realize I was planning to write a holiday gift guide! I am probably the least qualified person on earth to write a gift guide. I hate pretty much everything. Do these marketers really think I am going to put something on a gift guide because they sent me an annoying e-mail about it? I wouldn't torture Al Qaeda operatives with your CGI Chipmunk Blu-Ray Release, assholes. I don't even understand what a Blu-Ray is. Is it like X-Box but not just for porn? Clearly, none of these marketers remember that I subscribe to the The Sacajawea Theory of parenting. A few years ago I decided I would never buy (or recommend that anyone else buy) anything that I learned about from an annoying, unsolicited e-mail. Happily, that means I basically don't have to buy anything ever. I began to wonder what a gift guide put together by me would actually look like, and realized there were only about six things in the world I can wholeheartedly recommend to anyone.
Six Christmas Gifts Recommended by a Skinflint Erstwhile Stay-at-Home Dad Curmudgeon Who Hates Gifts
1. Grandpa's Wonder Pine Tar Soap