The Ingrate Gatsby

I don’t have a whole lot of cute Xmas pictures to share of my children’s delight at Santa’s efforts, or the joy of opening the most amazing toys ever.  Don’t get me wrong:  Santa did his best, and the gifts were pretty damn sweet.  But one of my children was possessed by the spirit of Francis from Pee Wee’s Big Adventure.  You know, the spoiled bully who constantly acted like an asshole.

I know you are but what am I?  (Photo courtesy of a Google search I did)

I know you are but what am I? (Photo courtesy of a Google search I did)

I suppose it started several weeks ago when we took the kids to that Xmas carnival with the cool rides and Santa.  The Santa visit was great (she asked for a Fur Real puppy thing that’s seriously creepy) and the rides were a hit.  On the way out, however, she saw one of those stands they set up at all of these types of things which sells items for about 3,000% of what they’re actually worth, given that they’re made in a far-off country with zero regard for VOC emissions or the lead content in paint.  There was something there – a “squeaky puppy-” that caught her eye.  She immediately began whining for it which we shut down.  We had just take the kid to see Santa and ride rides.  She was about to get a whole slew of new toys.  Surely the “squeaky puppy” wasn’t that important.

I’ll be damned if “squeaky puppy” didn’t stick in her melon.  She added it to the Dear Santa letter she wrote.  She also asked for some Shopkins and a Fur Real creepy puppy thing – oh, and some Legos for Felix.  Santa hoped that in the magic of Xmas morn, “squeaky puppy” would be forgotten in favor of the Fur Real creepy puppy thing and the hula hoop and the Wonder Woman doll and the bulging stocking full of candy and Shopkins and all other manner of delightful girly things.

Xmas morning came.  The kids were up early (6:15) yet luxuriously late compared to the past 6 years.  Felix was up first, and I managed to send him to wake his sister before he saw too much.   I was incredibly excited because Will actually got up.  Y’all don’t understand.  Will is about as much of a morning person as Count Dracula.  He’s never up to see the Santa portion of Xmas.  Hell, last year I slept on the couch so I wouldn’t miss it.  This year, he rushed out and had his iPhone ready to video the happy moment when Stella emerged.  This was going to be storybook, a Xmas to remember.  I could feel it.

She immediately made the ugliest, most wretched face a kid can make who isn’t actively throwing up.  Where was “squeaky puppy?”  She had asked for “squeaky puppy!”  In the meantime, she was almost sitting on  Fur Real creepy puppy thing.  Will looked at me in bewilderment, stopped videoing, and said “I’m deleting this.  And next year I’m sleeping in.”  I couldn’t argue with that.  And y’all, it just got worse.

Merry F'ing Xmas.

Merry F’ing Xmas.

My brother got her a Simon game at my suggestion, because I knew she would love it.  Here she is opening it.  Now, she'll gutterstomp her brother if he even tries to push a button.  It's been probably her favorite gift this year.

My brother got her a Simon game at my suggestion, because I knew she would love it. Here she is opening it. Now, she’ll gutterstomp her brother if he even tries to push a button. It’s been probably her favorite gift this year.

I really do try to raise my kids right – to have manners, be polite, be kind, and not act like assholes.  Usually people comment at how well-mannered they are in public.  Felix was fabulous.  As a matter of fact, he could have unwrapped a box of post-it notes and been ecstatic.  Case in point, Xmas eve we always let them open one wrapped gift.  Crispi had gotten Stella one of those wonderful personalized books that’s been making the rounds on Facebook, “The Girl Who Lost Her Name.”  It’s the cutest thing.  Crispi, understandably wanted Stella to open that without the competition and hubbub of other toys.  It was a hit.  I chose for Felix one of the boxes from my dad – a Dinotrux toy, I thought.  It was shoes.  I was braced for a huge tantrum.  Instead, Felix put them on, ran through the house in his “new big boy fast shoes,” and I damn near couldn’t get them off his feet at bedtime.

Felix acting like a kid who's actually happy it's Xmas.

Felix acting like a kid who’s actually happy it’s Xmas.

I have no idea what happened to my daughter.  She whined and moaned through gift opening.  It got so horrible that we sent her to her room to think about her ungrateful behavior, and yes, we’ve talked about how so many kids don’t get nice Xmases or have enough to eat; we donated a nice bag of new toys to Toys for Tots.  I threatened to take the rest of her wrapped gifts and send them back to Amazon.  I also said Santa had a rule that if kids acted like turds about what he left them that he would come back the next night and take them back.

She sniveled the rest of the day.  Just yesterday, she was griping that Santa only brought her one thing she had asked for.  What an asshole.

So y’all please tell me: has this ever happened to you?  Have your children ever been possessed by the Ghost of Xmas Ass?  What did you do about it?

And Felix is still having fun...

And Felix is still having fun…

 

Advertisements

About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
This entry was posted in life, Parenting and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

15 Responses to The Ingrate Gatsby

  1. Um. Yes. My oldest is our family “asshole” when it comes to gifts (he’s 9). It makes me want to stick pins in my temples and teleport myself far from his vicinity. Honestly, it makes me loathe the gifting part of Christmas. This isn’t short but I have more to add and will try to come back — or link to a post if I can get around to writing one. SOOO much to say/rant about on this topic. I DO think it’s a phase/product of American afluenza (we’re certainly not wealthy by some standards but blessed beyond measure for sure), and I found myself having to reign in my disgust at his crappy attitude this entire season. All to say…I feel ya. Watching it go down live is a total bear. Happy 2017 to all of you, including the one sporting the rotten behavior. 🙂

  2. w1nt3l says:

    My daughter was possessed the Thursday night before Christmas and my wife lost her shit after just having had surgery the day before. To say my daughter was being an asshole is an understatement; my wife has never raised her voice to her and this time it was full on screaming and hitting the table with her fist. It was the 2nd year in a row that my daughter self-sabotaged Christmas from being anything but happy and fun. I took about a half hour to compose myself, as my wife sobbed upstairs, then went to the daughters room. In a calm, almost monotone voice, I said “Your words and actions caused this to happen…your words and actions. Words don’t come close to how disappointed I am with you right now. You have lost all screen privileges until I’m satisfied you understand why what you did was wrong. No TV, Xbox, iPod or computer.” I turned around and pulled the door shut and didn’t see her again until the next morning. Apparently she came in to apologize to my wife that night but pain pills knocked her out so I doubt she remembers anything.

    If I had acted like that as a child, I would have had any number of smacks across the face or on the butt. If we did to our kids what was done to us, it would be video taped and posted to Twitter or YouTube. Consequences today get a “whatever” response and the action takes place anyway, the consequences back in the day for me were enough to make me not want to do what I know would get my in trouble.

    • larva225 says:

      I had read your post when that happened. And yes, if I had behaved half as jerkishly, I’d STILL be grounded. I know mine is “only” 6 but dammit! This came out of absolutely nowhere.

  3. Cookie says:

    Well…..at least one of your kids left his assholery at the door, lol.
    Mine had a great Christmas morning. Now the problem is they feel like they should get presents every morning upon arising. Ummmm, how about no?

    • larva225 says:

      The big toy here this Xmas was this abomination known as a Hatchimal. Stella wanted one initially, but I managed to convince her that the Easter Bunny was more likely to bring her one of those since it was an egg-based toy and you could not find any of these hideous things anywhere. She forgot about it it. The Easter Bunny may bring her nothing but black jelly beans this year due to asshole-ish behavior. Hell, the Easter Bunny may find a way to make a hatch-able egg with that crap inside, just for dramatic effect.

      • Cookie says:

        We found Destroyer a Hatchimal back in September when they weren’t worth 1000$ on ebay lol.
        But I would also perhaps pay 1000$ for you to get Stella a Hatchimal, let it hatch, fill it with crap and glue it back together for her on Easter. THAT would be some Jimmy Kimmel/Ellen Show worthy shit.

      • larva225 says:

        I may get back to you on that, especially if she mentions that fucking squeaky puppy one more time.

  4. joey says:

    I have not had this. BUT! She’s like, 6-7, right? Children at that age are particularly concerned with injustices and they are self-centered on the development whole. I don’t want to say it’s normal, but it’s not unusual, okay?
    When Sissy was 6, Bubba had to have his appendix out. It was a whole big thing that took over our lives for no less than a week. Sissy was incorrigible the entire time. She was jealous and hateful and minced no words about it. It was so bad I started to ask myself if we’d failed, if she was sociopathic, if she even loved her brother. Awful, awful time. Had she no manners?
    So you know, these things happen. :/

  5. desleyjane says:

    Sorry I have no children. But my dog hated her toys from Grandma. Hated. Them.

  6. Anxious Mom says:

    You’re gonna use the first picture and caption as your holiday card next year, right?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s