On Friday, Scott presented me with my first Christmas present and I'm sharing it with you. It's a brand new (to me) desktop computer complete with Word for professional typists. That means I'll be able to chuck the old Student version of Word that has been the bane of my existence.
I know, you're all saying: "Hey, Roseanne Rosanna Danna! I thought you were poor! How did you score the new tech?"
The answer is this. Scott found a guy who refurbishes old government computers and sells them on Kijiji for, like, two hundred bucks.
Oh you're skeptical? How can you possibly get a computer for two hundred bucks unless it fell off a truck in Gatineau somewhere?
It might have come from Idontgiveashitistan, for all I care.
Who am I to look a gift horse?
It's better than the six hundred dollar laptop I got from HP, the one that comes with a screen full of ads and free offers from other companies, the kind that gives you viruses unless you buy the virus protector.
I hate HP more than I hate the government, more than I hate Mark Zuckerberg.
Finally, I've sent Hewlett Packing.
I'm tap-tapping on a brand new stand alone keyboard and my neck no longer looks like a curved desk lamp. If I never see another laptop, it will be too soon. They are the devil's operatives.
I love Christmas when I get good stuff. It's not always the case. Once, the ex bought me an electric pastamaker. That was the Christmas when he bought his mistress twelve hundred dollars worth of jewelry from European Fine Jeweller's, the Christmas before we broke up.
I've gotten lots of bubble bath and toilette items. Why do people give these things to women over the age of 30? Do any of us take baths anymore after our children have ravaged our breasts and Mother Nature has made the rest of our bodies look like the Hills in the Sound of Music?
My kids always give me good presents. And I'm expecting more this Christmas.
I mean, why have children if they can't buy you nice presents when you're old?
I'm not one to say "oh dear, you shouldn't have".
Of course you should have! Who do you think paid for those fancy veneers and gaming systems? That's right! You're looking at her.
I deserve good presents because I've been an awesome mom. I jammed my fingers with chicken bones making thousands of pots of homemade soup. I drove them to school every single day when they could have taken the bus. And yes, I bailed one of them out of jail and picked him up at the halfway house.
I don't have a fancy house on which to hang a reverse mortgage. Nor do I have a pile of money in RRSPs.
You took those from me, and you know it.
I have squat, except three dogs, a decent husband and this lovely new computer.
So give 'er. Max out the credit card for your old ma.
Seriously, I don't have to say this to my children cause they're wonderful.
Besides, I've been good, Adult Children Santas. Haven't I?
I've made you Sunday dinner every other weekend -- well that's not true, Scott made it actually, but I made dessert. I let you take over the television to watch the Superbowl when I really wanted to see Nurse Jackie. And I've babysat the grandchild at least ten times in two years. That should count for something.
So here's what I need.
Honestly, I don't need anything. But I'd like the new Link game for the DS, also the new Mario and Luigi. My tastes haven't changed since my development was arrested at age 16.
I don't want a slow cooker. Nor do I have use for a vacuum cleaner. Hello, I wouldn't even know how to turn it on.
Really, I don't need anything, nothing at all. Just your love and affection. Maybe a bottle of Bailey's for the coffee.
Maybe a copy of Rock of Ages if you can get your hands on one.
Thanks in advance.
Oh, yes, and a trip to Europe might be nice.
First class, please. You know the champers just isn't the same in coach.