…and we’re back, by popular demand.
The past few months have been this:
HH: Ariel’s eyes are BLUE!
Me: They are! What color are Mom’s eyes?
Me: Red?!??! No…
I’ve also been spending an offensive amount of time in Target shopping for Desitin.
For these reasons, not only has putting a sentence together become a serious struggle, I have I felt as though I am lacking decent content (as opposed to before, when this forum only covered important, pressing issues).
But due to an aggressive campaign by this blog’s devoted followers (my sister) and their insistence that my content is NEVER boring, THAT ENDS TODAY!
So today we’ll be talking about…my most recent trip to Target.
Now that it’s officially hat weather (56 degrees at 4:45am), it’s time to talk about the holidays.
For the past 32 years a nutcracker named Mr. Teeth has adorned the hearth at my parent’s house during the holidays. Back in Mr. Teeth’s day, he probably looked like every other nutcracker:
Today, Mr. Teeth has no feet, no hair, one eye, and if you touch him the wrong way his arms fall off. We love him all the same.
So imagine my delight when yesterday at Target, while in search of frozen peas, I came across a huge display of nutcrackers.
(This is Target’s MO…you go looking for peas and somehow end up in the nutcracker aisle. It’s incredibly effective.)
Nutcrackers of all different shapes and colors and species and genders and professions. So I decided to let HH pick out her own Mr. Teeth.
In addition to a girl nutcracker wearing a “beautiful dress” that resembles Elsa (go figure) but has a lever that opens up a hole in her chest à la Alien as opposed to her mouth, guess which one she chose:
Mr. Pink Sparkle 2015 Nutcracker, complete with beard, staff, and soldier’s helmet. Breaking down gender norms, one Christmas decoration at a time.
This guy will have a home on our hearth for many years to come.