Christmas crafts have taken over the Island.

Send help.

In the way of vodka martinis.

NOW.

If I see another piece of Christmas ribbon, I’m going to use it to string myself up by the ankles.

That takes talent, really. Stringing your own self up by the ankles.

And my Cricut?

I will burn it in a sacrificial bonfire with the hundreds of tiny scraps of red, green, and white paper littering my kitchen floor. Then I will roast marshmallows over it while singing Kumbaya and Santa Bring My Sanity Back To Me.

God help me, the Foam Crafts haven’t been let loose from the ranks yet, but my spy tells me the tyrants formerly known as my children insist the foam join in the takeover tomorrow.

And let’s not even talk about the Gingerbread house kit. It’s like the tyrants’ secret weapon they are holding until my weakest moment, and they know they will bring about my final downfall by tying me down with royal icing and inedible gumdrops.

Save me.

What the tyrants don’t know is that the Queen has her own secret weapon and it’s called homemade fruit cake laced with laxative.

(insert maniacal laughter here)

But you should still send help in the way of vodka martinis. A matriarch in my current position can never have too many reinforcements.

This entry was posted on Friday, December 19th, 2008 at 4:24 am and is filed under Royal Holiday, This Mom Gig. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.