The Search for the Dream Ornament & The Perfect Punk

I have two weeks left to find that ornament I need to buy to represent what dream I want to happen and yesterday's search ended up zilch. If you are confused on what in the heck I am talking about, click here. Don't you just hate it when you walk in on a movie that's half over and you don't know what in the heck is going on? That link will explain.

I've got to find that ornament. I know what the dream is; I just have to find an ornament to represent it. More than anything in the upcoming year besides good health, a lob cabin in the mountains and do nothing but write, I wish for a book I have written to be snatched up by a dream agent who will find me a top NY publisher. Heh. Hey, this is my dream!

I took my son and daughter Christmas shopping yesterday, fully intending on buying their Christmas clothes (I can't buy for them for I take the easy way out..here's the credit card, have a field day) and finding my dream ornament.

Found the Christmas clothes but the dream ornament has yet to surface.

The crowd wasn't bad, though, and our spirits couldn't have been in better sync with one another as my daughter, son and I ploughed through a few department stores and the mall, stopping at Texas Road House for a steak and baked potatoe dinner. Ymmm.

I bought jeans, bought shirts, bought underwear, bought shoes, but didn't buy my ornament.

Oh, I could have if I wanted to plunk down eleven bucks for a personalized ornament, and I really did give that one some thought. I could put my book's name on it! But, eleven bucks for an ornament sent my pocketbook to trembling. I'd put it through enough stress already.

After we finished shopping, we went out to eat at Texas Road House where my Adopted-Daughter-Used-To-Be (long story) and her step-sister was already in the restaurant.

My Adopted-Daughter-Used-To-Be walked over to us and I have no idea how this happened, perhaps we were all giddy from the Christmas shopping, but someone came up with the perfect plan to "punk" Adopted-Daughter-Used-To-Be's step-sister.

Now, you have to know Texas Road House. If it's anyone's birthday, the whole staff comes out of the back, clapping and marching in unison until they get to the victim's - oops, birthday person's - table, then they take the overhead light and shine it in the victim's - oops again, birthday person's - face, then go into this ear pitching, hee-haw sort of birthday song. Then, they walk away, leaving the person completely red-faced, vowing that whoever told them it was their birthday would not walk out of the restaurant with both of their legs. Or arms. Or whatever else they could chop off.

Now, the thing was, it wasn't even Adopted-Daughter-Used-To-Be's step-sister's birthday.

Okay, you get the picture. It was the perfect punk. It's bad enough to have this happen to you on your birthday, but when it isn't, well, I wouldn't want to be the person doing the punking, I'll tell you that.

My Adopted-Daughter-Used-To-Be went back to her table and when our waitress came over to check on us, my daughter oh-so-innocently said, "I don't mean to be a bother, but do you remember the girl who was sitting here with us? Well, it's her step-sister's birthday and I know how you all hate doing that hee-haw thing you do, but could you?"

The waitress got that oh-another-victim! gleam in her eye and said sure.

We waited. My daughter gave my Adopted-Daughter-Used-To-Be the thumbs up.

We waited and waited.

Sure enough, we heard the clapping. It started off faintly, then as it got closer to us, we knew it was...SHOWDOWN.

My daughter, son and I were dying, trying to keep a straight face, but we couldn't.

They all hee-hawed over to their table, and the girl? She went, "But, my birthday isn't until July!"

Didn't matter. They didn't believe her.

It was the perfect punk. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I would have never believed it. The girl wanted to die.

But, she took it like a trooper. It was the perfect ending for a perfect night.

I never did get my ornament. But, seeing the expression on that girl's face was the next best thing.