Monthly Archives: January 2014

I Asked Santa for a Doll, But Got A Baby Instead!


Richmond, Indiana. December 2013.

Despite the chilly temperatures, Wally and I decided to take the kids to meet Santa and see what this “Old Fashioned Christmas” that I kept seeing advertised was actually like. We bundled up and headed down to the Historic Depot District of town, where we were greeted with lights, a horse drawn carriage, a snowman on a Segway, some people on stilts, carolers, and the local radio station.

I wasn’t too keen on taking my 4 month old son out in the winter weather, but I also didn’t want to deprive my 2 year old daughter of some holiday fun. I did what any over-protective mother would do. I carefully placed my son in his Boba Wrap against my chest, where he was cozy and warm. I put a replica Santa hat (obviously the real one belongs to the Big Guy) on his little head to keep it warm, and then I put my coat on over both of us and buttoned it in the front. You actually wouldn’t know I was carrying a baby at all.

The furniture gallery housed the always popular Mr. And Mrs. Claus, but before making our way inside, we stopped to see the ice carvings and live reindeer. Rory was having a blast.

We finally decided to seek some warmth and headed towards the building. Once inside, nestled amongst the dining room sets and cozy sofa sets, a Christmas Wonderland awaited us. Festivities as far as the eye could see! Two floors to be exact.

We decided to check out the second level, and even though nothing seemed more fun then walking a two year old up a narrow set of stairs at a speed of half a mile per hour, we took the elevator. It was a freight elevator, (we were in a furniture gallery, after all) and had to be operated by an employee of the store.

It had become warm, and I didn’t want the baby to get too warm, so I had unbuttoned my coat and exposed him, wrapped up tightly against my belly. As the elevator starts moving, another patron looks over at me.

“Oh my gosh! Is that a real baby?”

Thankfully, I have been blessed with a filter, probably a result of my ten plus years in customer service, that springs into action when asked a dumb question. Like a computer firewall, the filter blocks whatever I’m really thinking, and instead grants me the ability to respond politely.

I smiled and said: “Yep. He’s real.” As if there was any other response.

“He’s so cute. I thought he was a doll.” the lady said.

I thanked her and the elevator came to a stop. We departed the box of doom and each went our separate ways. There was something I just couldn’t get out of my head though.

“Why would I be carrying a doll around like this?” I asked Wally.

I really couldn’t come to terms with concept of finding an acceptable one of Rory’s dolls, putting clothes on it (since all of hers are naked), and then going through the process of wrapping it up, bundling it up, and then taking it to a Christmas event.

I guess I haven’t watched enough My Strange Addiction. Even when I did see the one on people who treat dolls like children, I still couldn’t really understand what I was looking at. I guess it’s a compliment that my son can pass for a perfect doll, but I also thought it meant I looked crazy enough to be one of “those” people.

Maybe Ill try walking around with a doll. I’d like to see how many people stop and tell me it looks real. I’ll let you know.


The Cupcake that Confused the Clerk

I didn’t expect to find it at the local Kroger, but there it was. A delectable chocolate confection wrapped in a cozy paper liner and topped with mint frosting. A half of a cookie was inserted into the top of the swirled green sweetness. It wasn’t typical supermarket cupcakery. I had to have it.

The bakery clerk packaged it up perfectly and I placed it in my cart. Throughout the rest of my shopping trip, I stared at the magnificence, eagerly awaiting the moment when I could surprise Rory with it.

Finally arriving at the checkout lane, I placed all my items onto the belt and smiled politely at the cashier. He was a young male, probably no more than sixteen, and he conversed with the similarly aged bagging clerk.

When the cupcake made it to the end of the belt, he picked it up and put it near the UPC scanner. “Wow, this looks awesome.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” I replied.

“I wouldn’t pay $1.20 for one cupcake though.”

For those of us in who partake in the gourmet cupcake subculture, we know a dollar twenty isn’t super expensive. “You have to treat yourself sometimes, though. Right?” I smiled as he stared at the cupcake.

Do I offer to buy him one? The amount of time between the cupcake reaching the end of the belt to it being placed in the bagging area became awkwardly long. I was starting to get uncomfortable.

“What do you want me to do with this?” he asked.

His question stunned me. I hadn’t considered any possibilities other than putting it in a bag. I felt like he was putting me on the spot, and my mind started racing. “I think I want you to put it in a bag.”

He stared at me.

“By itself?”

Another impossible question. I felt my palms get sweaty and my chest get heavy. How can I pass this test? If I answer incorrectly, do I lose cupcake buying privileges at Kroger? The cupcakes at Marsh paled in comparison. I couldn’t rely on just them to satisfy my sweet tooth. “Sure.” I tried to answer nonchalantly. I didn’t want him to see my lack of confidence in my answer.

He handed it to the other clerk who grabbed a separate plastic bag and put the cupcake in it. Alone.

Had I passed? I don’t know, because I’ve been afraid to buy another cupcake since then. Wonder what they’d do if I bought a whole cake?


Thanks for checking out Everyday Ordinary. This is a new blog I’m launching, and will work in conjunction with Everyday Ordinary, Pure Comedy, my current project of a collection of linked short stories. This blog will address the non-fiction inspiration of each story.

Sounds, boring right? Well, that’s just the technical purpose of this page. It’s true purpose is for you to enjoy reading about a typical day in the life of someone who seeks to find the humor in all things.

My goal is that you will come here when you’re having a not so awesome day, and by the time you finish reading you will have laughed and realized not to take life so seriously. Because the universe has a hell of a sense of humor, and it’s dead set on making you the punchline.