SILENT NIGHT, HOMELY NIGHT

I have a full blown nasty head cold.

I hate head colds. My sinuses are shut down, I'm breathing through my mouth like a caveman. Or a professor from Mississippi ... take your pick.

My eyes are itchy and burning. My throat is sore and full of a phlegm-like material that's really phlegm, but if I say it's "phlegm-like" then it doesn't sound as gross.

And I'm whiny. I'm a whiny, whiny bitch.

I just wanna crawl back into bed, kick my coughing, sputtering wife out of there and sleep til Tuesday.

Alas...I cannot. My life and presence are way too important to just chill in bed.

I have things to do.

People to see.

"Ed" recaps to finish.

Gawd...my "Ed" recap...

This week's episode dealt with racism and homophobia.

Not exactly topics that I can mine yucks a' plenty from, y'know?

And me being me...I go for the cheap laugh. Not the sophisticated laugh that comes from spending 30 minutes working on a joke.

However, when dealing with the topics of racism and homophobia ... you go for the cheap laugh and you get hate mail.

I don't need any more hate mail. It wouldn't be so bad if they put in the subject line "I HATE YOU YOU F'N CREEP!"...but they never do. They always put "Ed" or something in the subject line that makes me think it's going to be prrrrrrraise or something.

Then they stick it to me. "How dare you make fun of fat people? Fat people have feelings too, you know!"

I usually write back "I'm fat. Judging by my recap, I obviously don't have feelings. Therefore ... you're wrong, Princess Eatalot."

Anyway...I've been struggling with this recap, trying to make it funny. But it's such serious, touchy subject matter that you can't really do anything with it.

...Like you care...

I stopped at McDonald's last night to get Andy a Happy Meal for dinner, since we were meeting at the church and he'd be hungry.

The drive-thru line was outrageous. I didn't mind...I waited in it.

I got to the intercom and ordered the meal and said "Do I HAVE to get a drink with that?" Because Andrew's only a year old...we haven't really introduced him to the wonders of carbonated soft drinks loaded with caffeine and sugar.

"You don' hap to get it," the uneducated girl on the intercom said. "But I's go' hap to charge you fo' it."

Fine. Gimme a Diet Coke. I'll drink the swill.

Now...I specifically ordered a Toddler Toy in my Happy Meal. These are usually little plastic cars and trucks that Andy has really taken a shine to lately. We can spend 50 bucks on a Mickey Mouse piano whose keys light up when you touch them...but he'd much rather have the cheap free toy from the Happy Meal.

Plus...Toddler Toys are for kids under 3. Once they hit the age of 3, McDonald's gives kids dangerous toys. Toys that can be swallowed and then absorb their stomach lining and cause cancer in rats who may happen to be in the kid's stomachs.

Last month, they were handing out multi-colored razor blades.

I shit you not.

Anyway, after waiting another ten minutes in line, I get to the window where I get the Happy Meal and the drink I didn't want.

I check the bag because ... well...how can I put this so I don't offend anyone? McDonald's hires the most ignorant bastards on this planet and then expects them to do their job correctly. Is that PC enough?

The girl has put a handful of speed in the bag for a toy, rather than the toddler toy I specifically asked for.

"Can I have a toddler toy?" I asked the girl as I handed her the fistful of pills.

"Dass all we's got," she slurred, fighting desperately to not slip into a coma.

Soooo...to recap...I had a drink I didn't want to pay for. And I had a toy that my child wasn't old enough to play with rather than his favorite little car. All because LaQuishaQuintaQunte was too goddamned lazy to bend down and fish a toddler toy out of the box at her feet.

And DON'T TELL ME that I have to order that drink. It's rung up seperately from the hamburger and fries. Just don't ring it up, LaRonald. It's that f'n simple, you ignorant nappy-headed punk assed bitch. Put that second-grade level education to work for you, Sweetie. DON'T PUSH THE GODDAMNED DRINK BUTTON.

Sorry. It's just that...my kid likes the cars. That's all.

So...after that hateful and spiteful journey, I went to church to cleanse my soul.

Fat lot of good THAT did.

It was time to watch the children's production of "We Didn't Learn Our Lines For The Christmas Pageant, So We're Going To Stand Here With Our Fingers Up Our Noses And Mumble The Words To 'Silent Night' Until You All Applaud Out Of Pity."

It's a Christmas tradition at our church.

Of course...because I set the camcorder up on the side of the church, the majority of the video focuses on this teen boy's head who served as the narrator.

This kid has about as much charisma as a bottle of water. It's beyond obvious that he wants nothing to do with this production as he mumbles his lines and fidgets with his eyeglasses. He wouldn't lean into the microphone, so any hope of actually HEARING what he was saying was shattered.

I fought the urge to scream "Speak up you heartless bastard!" Plus, he never backed up from the microphone and as hard as I tried to shoot the rest of the kids, I was stuck with this kid's big-assed quiet head in the camera the entire time.

Great.

The parents are going to LOVE this tape.

"Where's my child? Why is the goofy new kid who doesn't speak English all over this video?"

There'll be bitching on Sunday morning.

It's times like these I need my Army there to protect me.