Llamaface spent 12 hours at work today. He left before Booger was awake and he got home after he was in bed. Why? Because people can’t seem to get it through their thick fucking skulls that those “deals” happen at other times during the year, too, and even if they didn’t, maybe just maybe little Mckynzylynn would benefit more from a membership to the zoo or the children’s museum than a new fucking ipod. Very, very few gifts this year are going to be store-bought. VERY few. And I will be good and god-damned if I step one single FOOT inside the mall to get whatever it is I can’t make. Llama says he feels bad that gifts from us are always made by me, like he’s not contributing to the gift somehow, but I’m the one who does all the shopping anyway, so it’s not as though it’s any different. He hates shopping and he doesn’t have the best gift track record (see: the white fudge covered oreos of 2005), so he leaves it up to me, which I’m fine with, but don’t pout that it’s not from “us” when I decide that I’m going to tell corporate America to go fuck themselves and spend my free time (ha!) making comfy socks, arm warmers, and fabulous handbags for the various members of our family.