With the arrival of the Christmas Troll, so ends Dave’s Christmas Cheer.

Thursday evening was upon us.  I started to clean dishes.  My wife went off to watch some drudgery of a Thursday night football game, I suspect because Troy Aikman was broadcasting.  Just a suspicion, because he certainly is handsome.

I finished dishes, pretty certain that I had finished my chores.  I joined my wife in watching two lousy teams play football.  Troy Aiken was broadcasting, however, and he is handsome, so there’s that.

The next morning, I woke up.  I was pretty sure Tennessee had won.  Not sure about the score, but certain that Troy Aikman is handsome.  Then I remembered something.  Something that almost felt like a crime.  We had previously talked about getting our Christmas tree on Thursday night.  I had completely forgotten Christmas.  What kind of a person was I?

We had given in to the siren song of football.  The handsomeness of Troy Aikman.  We had forgotten Christmas.  Well, if you put it that way, it’s certainly understandable.  Troy Aikman is a lot more handsome than Santa Claus.

It’s cold here in Minnesota, so let’s reflect on a moment from late Summer, the beginning of the baseball playoffs.

Since I didn’t have a team in the game, I began randomly cheering for one of the participants.  As the game wore on, I started to get tired, drifting in and out of sleep on the couch.

Waking up briefly, I saw the wrong team lace a double down the Left Field line.  In my slumber, I expressed my despair.  “Oh, shit!”

Looking at me stunned, one of my boys (fully awake) asked, “What?!?”

Almost awake now, I struggled to clarify. “Oh, a hit!”

Sadly dad, that wasn’t a save.  That was most certainly an error.

My Fourth Grade son Ben, “Will you help quiz me on the state capitals?”

Me, “Sure, how about Delaware?”

Ben, “Delaware?  Hum, I don’t know Delaware. (Pause) Who knew Delaware was a state?”

Ah, poor Delaware.  The first state, appears to be last among 9-year-olds.

Sitting down at the dinner table, I had some exciting news.  “Today at work, we got a karaoke machine!”

My family sat in stunned silence, until my wife finally asked, “Why?”

Why?  Hum, I never considered that.

Then this evening, I was waiting to enter a High School basketball game, when I saw the rules for athlete conduct on the wall.  The answer was right there.  Toward the bottom.  Articulated as plain as day.

“Have fun; share fun.”

A well phrased defense for a workplace karaoke machine, if I ever heard one.

Passing by the “Clearance Shelf” at the grocery store, something caught my eye.

A broken number “2” candle for 66 cents.

Really?  Shouldn’t a broken candle be free?

Then I got to thinking.  A two-year-old would never know the difference.  Way to go, clever store.  Way to go, resourceful parent.  An example of Clearance Shelf Symbiosis, if ever there was one.

I’m not sure about the location of Jacob’s socks, but it sure looks like his slippers would like to change the channels.

As I heard the request, I knew nothing good awaited me. “Dad, could you come into the bathroom?”

Sure enough, an unpleasant task stared me down.  As my boy was changing the roll of toilet paper, the metal cylinder that holds the toilet paper had fallen in.  Fallen in with the other recent deposits to the toilet.  Ew.

Looking at me a bit perplexed, my boy explained, “I didn’t know what to do.”

Turning to my boy, I simultaneously began to solve the problem and explain the unpleasant truth.  “You just need to reach in…”

Pulling out the metal rod, my son looked disgusted, but undeterred, I continued, “… just make sure to clean up with lots of soap.”n

(Nasty) Job done, “Subtle Savage” style.

Embarrassingly enough, today I took a Post-It Note, wrote down a task that I had just finished, and crossed it out.  I was giving myself a little boost. “Hey, look what I just finished.”

Just so happens that I was summarizing interview notes and my “cross out” just did not look right.  I had just finished entering notes from interviewing my coworker Dan…

Yes, poor Dan got “crossed out.”

Not a good look, but (guilty confession) it did feel good to get something done.

So it’s Thursday night and tonight, I have a date with my wife.

“What?,” you say.  “That’s right!,” I say.

You know, I was worried about having enough time to complete a blog post.  Now, I’m worried about remembering how to go on a date.