December is here, and despite my curled lip and huffy anger at all that is winter, even I like Christmas. So, it’s time to start that decorating.
Recently, my mother has been able to slowly but surely unload a few of her boxes of
total crap Christmas treasures on me. Not a lot, I warn you. I promise, my father is still buried in endless ornaments, figurines and knick-nackery, all of which looks identical. But somehow I managed to get an entire box that I didn’t even pack. Something my mother must have just handed over.
I’ll admit, as I was emptying it, I was enjoying it. My mother has, for the past 200 years or so, collected small Christmas trees. Wood. Glass. Plastic. Sprinkled with more sparkly sprinkles than will ever completely wash off your hands. And I like them. So I got some joy pulling them out one by one and taking a good look.
Then it happened.
When I reached the bottom of the box, I found a pen. On it was stamped a business name, as you will commonly find on pens. Only this on reads:
Verdant Fields Nudist Camp
Get in touch with your OUTER self!
Enjoy ping pong, volleyball & our famous bottomless buffet.
NO SHIT PEOPLE.
Yeah, that’s right. I displayed my mother’s shame on a dirty pot holder and put it on the world wide web.
Thanks for the visual Mom. And for God’s sake, do NOT try to explain it. God forbid we have to have an experience where the cure is worse than the disease.
Merry Naked Christmas.
UPDATE: My friend Alicia informed me that this is a “joke” pen. That you can buy them with all sorts of disgusting and/or awesome fake places and hand them over to unsuspecting people like me and terrorize them. Of course, now the problem isn’t that my mother has been to a nudist camp. It’s that this is my mother’s sense of humor. I will miss her while she is in hell.