That's Not Toilet Paper On My Shoe

Well, I finally dug myself out of the rubble. The Christmas gift rubble. I feel like I've been clawing my way out for weeks. Just when light would begin to stream in....BAM! An uncle, aunt, or grandmother would hand over another present to my spoiled brats beautiful children.

The green and red gift wrap, the curly ribbon, the bows, wads and wads of tissue paper - I couldn't escape it all. It just kept appearing and I was tangled up like a mummy in the stuff.

I grabbed the big leaf garbage bags, the kitchen ones just wouldn't do, to help dispose of the mess. As I was cleaning up I had to fight off the pup who was shredding, the already torn to bits wrapping paper, into minute, teeny tiny pieces. I then started shoving the heap, deep down into the bags, all the while trying to free my finger of the same piece of static-clinging plastic wrap from one of the boy's games. It wouldn't come off. The freakin thing would move from one hand to the other, then to my arm, then back to my finger. It was all I could do not to scream.

But scream I would. Not from the plastic, which I was finally freed from, no, NO, but from disengaging the toys from their packaging.

HOLY.MOTHER.OF.GOD!

R. received the Littlest Pet Shop Round & Round Pet Town from Santa. Curse that jolly old man. It took me twenty minutes to remove the twisted wires and rubber bands from the playset. TWENTY MINUTES! No lie, I timed it.

And you know something? The wires are bad enough. The manufacturers have been using them for a while now. I was just getting used to them and actually found scissors that cut through the wire in one clip. But now they had to steal the rubber bands from local orthodontists to wrap and wrap and wrap around each figurine. The bands are clear too, so when you drop a trillion one, which you will, you can't find it. I'll be coming across them until at least St. Patrick's Day, at which time I will be getting drunk and shooting them at Mr. Schmitty.

This time consuming act continued on and on, as the Schmitty children received quite the bounty this year. I'm still wondering if Mr. Claus is on crack.

Anywho, after everything was finally opened, I realized breaking into a bank or breaking out of a high security prison would probably have been easier than dislodging that Power Rangers Megazord from it's box.

Anyone? Can you tell me, really? What exactly is the point of fastening toys down so tightly? Did somebody really take Toy Story 2 that seriously? Was there a corporate meeting to discuss how to keep those little buggers from running amok? Honestly dudes, I think you are going just a tad overboard.