
Here is the reason I go back to the same christmas tree lot every year: The first time I went, with three kids and an infant in tow, the Santa-clad treeman watched me wrangle and wheedle and negotiate with all kiddie opinions to land on the best (most afforable) tree in under 30 minutes, and then gifted me a teeny-tiny pocket rocket of
Jack Daniel's as a reward. I loved that man. I feel like I could carry on the tradition, walking around with a purse full of airline bottles, handing out "rewards" to harried moms and dads as they maneuver shopping carts through Target, stand in the slow and stultifying lines to see Swine Flu Santa, or pile more and more kids on their shoulders in order to provide a view to a parade. I'd be like a boozy little elf. This Fresh Forkin' Friday, I'm wrapping my kids up in thermo-nuclear wear to brave the
Holidazzle, and if you're going too, I might just have a gift for you ...
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