Things that SUCK

Since everyone around me (or at least most of the blogs I read regularly) are leaning towards the sap of late, I have felt an overwhelming need to write the opposite. Not that I’m opposed to the sap or those who write it. Everything has its time and place (and I have even been a tad sappy myself from time to time). But I have often thought my calling on Earth has been to maintain that delicate balance in the force of sap to anti-sap. And I am feeling a great disturbance tonight, which requires a large dose of anti-sap. Somebody freakin’ BOOed my house. Uuhhg!

For those of you who might be uneducated to the BOOing, allow me a moment to fill you in. It all begins with one person, one overly happy soul with overwhelming desires to inflict their joyous nature upon unsuspecting neighbors. They choose their prey and descend upon the house with cheery stealth, laying treats on the doorstep along with two pieces of paper, ring the doorbell, and run away into the night as if they had just left a flaming bag of poo. The victim answers the door to find not a person, but treats and paper. One paper contains a poem of sorts that declares you to have been BOOed by an unnamed party, and then continues to guilt you into inflicting the same treatment upon others. The other paper is a secret sign known only to other BOOers (which you now must hang on your door) notifying them of your BOOed state and that your house should be “passed over”. Belonging to this secret society with their signs and combinations, it then becomes your turn to prepare treats, make copies of the papers, and inflict said happiness (and guilt) upon others around you.

I wish it had been a flaming bag of poo instead of treats because then I wouldn’t feel as guilty hunting down the perpetrators and scaring the cheer right out of them.

“FUN HATER!” you may inwardly shout at me upon reading this. If the thought has crossed your mind or similar feelings are welling up in you at this time, you might be 6 years old, wish you were 6 years old, or attend BYU/live in the happy valley bubble.

Quite to the contrary, I very much enjoy the holiday seasons. I enjoy making treats and sharing them with neighbors, at least those neighbors who are worthy of my treats. I enjoy decorating my house (to the extent that I can afford). I enjoy doing things to excite my children about the holidays. I just prefer to deliver my glad tidings and well wishes in person rather than secretly leaving a guilt-laden note requiring others to do what I think is “fun”.

As a comparison… During the winter months (after a snowstorm), I will slip out early and shovel driveways and walks of a few elderly widows on my street. They are not usually up, and don’t know it’s me doing it. Should I leave a stupid poem on their door exclaiming they have been “SHOVELED”, which guilt’s them into grabbing their shovels and doing the same to others?

Whatever…