Mom O Matic's Gift Guide

The other day I was at Target, because where the fuck else would I be right? And it dawned on me that I might not be projecting the Christmas spirit that I was at that moment in pursuit of.

I was squinting at tiny price tags, scrunching my face up as I tried to access the part of my brain that solves problems like, "Does Jane like vanilla scented candles or did she say they activate her gag reflex"*, clutching my coat together in a perpetually cold middle aged kind of way, and nursing my lower back because I pinched a nerve hanging decorations.

In my mind, I was the motherfucking Christmas flame, burning brightly through the aisles of the big box store in pursuit of holiday cheer. In reality I was a hunched over, glassy eyed, crotchety looking lady mumbling to herself. And I looked around and realized there were a lot of us. A lot.

When did this happen? When did we take the leap from hand-holding, snow-strolling, spiked coffee drinking, lighthearted shoppers to white knuckling shopping carts and waking up at the crotch of dawn to hunt down doorbuster deals?

I think maybe it's because everyone has too much stuff now. Back in in the day we still needed things so it was easy to buy for one another. Our newly grownup selves had one frying pan and a questionable duvet cover so anything we got or gave received a Price Is Right Showcase Showdown level of excitement. "New towels! New damn towels!?! You are so amazing!" What can we buy each other that will generate that kind of enthusiasm now that our homes are overfilled with crap?

Then it dawned on me...liquor. Once we all pass 30 we should just start giving each other liquor. Go to the grocery store, and fill that cold wire shopping cart to the brim with wine, vodka, aperitifs, imported beers, amusing cans of malt liquor...to the tippety top. Slap a bow on each bottle, stick it under your tree and call it Christmas.

Who needs booze more than teachers? Nobody. The mailman who doesn't tell a soul that your bills come in bright red envelopes now. The garbage man that looks the other way as he hauls off your own overly full recycling bin. The family members that talk about you in therapy. The friends who pretend not to remember you telling them in graphic detail about how you were belligerent with your OBGYN. Booze. They all need booze.

Nobody ever complained that their bottles of wine were taking up too much room in the house. And if they did they are an asshole and you shouldn't be buying them gifts anyhow. Booze always fits and it's super easy to buy. One stop shopping, no stress and you are on the couch relaxing, watching creepy claymation holiday cartoons instead of growling over wrapping paper at Target.

Done. Now go buy some Courvoisier and a nice Chianti.

*Vanilla scented candles make people vomit. Don't buy them.