I went to Walmart the other night. I had no choice. That’s a lie. I guess I had a choice, but I didn’t have time. Anyway, I was a Walmart with the rest of the rabble.

I was poking around looking for a shirt for someone who shall remain nameless until Friday. I was trying to decide on a size so I chose a likely candidate and shook it out. Nope, that one wasn’t right. I pinched the shoulders and tucked the sleeves behind. A quick flick of my pinkies and the bottom flipped up. I placed the refolded shirt back in the pile.

“Oh my God. I love you.”

I looked up to see a Walmart employee standing on the opposite side of the table. I raised my eyebrows at her.

“No one ever folds the shirts when they put them back,” she said with a huge smile.

“Oh,” I smiled back. “It’s left over from years in retail. I also straightened some racks over there.” I pointed to the back of her department.

She beamed at me. “Wow! Thanks. When we’re done here, we should head over to K Mart. That place looked like it’s been ransacked.”

So I guess in addition to my regular forty hour work week and coming home to write this blog and my books, I am now a roving on-call clothing department straightener.

Ho ho ho! We’re practicing because Christmas is right around the corner and we haven’t been prepared for anything else this season. There’s still no cookies at Amylynn’s house and Ava only put up the Christmas tree so the cats would have something to play with. Nothing is wrapped. Nothing. We’re dreading the mall. We’ve utilized a lot of Amazon delivery which has been a godsend. Thank you UPS and everyone else who’s been dropping off all those packages. We’d give you a cookie if we had any.

1. AZDOT has a sense of humor. We love finding examples of a sense of humor in the government. While we were driving to our party, we kept passing under those electronic signs that give traffic and road advice. In a humorous effort to be timely, they said things like “Trust in the force, but always buckle up” and “Aggressive driving is the path to the dark side.” This is good stuff. Who’d think you’d ever look forward to getting to the next bossy road sign.

2. Corporate Christmas parties. The Sisters and the Sister’s official husbands (as opposed to our unofficial husbands, Tom Hardy and Jared Leto) went to our company’s holiday party on Friday night. It was out of town so we even got to stay in a lovely resort hotel for the event. The food was excellent–prime rib! Even the miserable buffet chicken was delicious. Then there were the desserts! After a while the DJ destroyed several 80’s classic rock songs by turning them into house music and adding a hideous back beat. Still, it was delightful to watch our coworkers bouncing around like crazed fools fueled by alcohol and chocolate cake. It’s always nice to have blackmail material.

3. The Arizona Grand. What a lovely hotel. Our rooms were spacious and the grounds were lovely. The pillows were less than desirable, but the sheets were soft and the mattresses were not. Our rooms were not in the same building, and usually that’s a problem for everyone in between. Maybe it was because we had chaperons (the Misters Bright) or because we all came back to Amylynn’s room for pizza and beer after the party. Whatever the reason , we firmly believe our neighbors had nothing to complain about. And except for the pizza crust being a bit doughy, neither did we.

4. VIP Thing. The Sisters work for a company that talks about “Heart” as being one of its guiding principals. As you all know, there was talk of that at Bank of No Forks but that’s all it was – talk.  This new company actually means it and they are seriously striving to get to a place where that’s the only type of leaders they employ.  The Sisters say “Hear, Hear” because that’s the only kind of leaders they’re willing to work for in their old age.  

5. Hillary gets it. Finishing the Democratic Debate, Hillary said “May the Force be with you.” She just threw it out there in her ending comments. Just like that. The debate was a no where near our state so we know she didn’t get it from our road signs. Say what you will about Hillary, she might be a grandma but she’s a grandma who could beat Darth Vader with her girl power alone! May the Force Be With You All this holiday season!

I fear this is exactly why Ava and I aren’t allowed to have one of these.

Ava is persecuting me over a Christmas cookie issue and we need your opinion.

Here’s what’s going on. The Christmas season has crept up on us like a runaway snowplow.  We have no idea how it’s already the middle of December, but it’s true. There’s one weekend left. ONE! until the holiday. This is a serious problem. There’s still so much to do; there’s no time left for 6 hours of baking. Not if you want the gift lists complete and the presents wrapped. You all know that I hardly sleep but it sometimes still happens. If we’re going to shoehorn baking into that already tight schedule she can kiss that goodbye. Grandma is too busy to do it either so that would leave Amylynn to do it all herself.

Here’s where the trouble started. I hoped that if I didn’t make all the cookies no one would notice. Clearly I’m delusional. I took the reaction of my family with a pouty lip and a quart of resentment.

In an effort to make everyone just shut up about it and buy some time, I made Rice Krispies Treats.

“Rice Krispies Treats?” Ava shrieked at me when I told her. “Those don’t qualify as cookies!”

“Sure they do,” I shouted back. All of this happened over the Keurig at work. It was way, way too early to be challenging me over what fits the definition of a cookie.

She put her hand on her hip and looked down at me. “No one thinks Rice Krispies Treats are a cookie. No one.”

I think at that point I told her to shut up and stormed back to my office. She’s told everyone we work with that I don’t even know what a cookie is and I’m trying to pass Rice Krispies Treats to my family. I’m not exactly sure what she’s implying here. That I don’t know desserts? That I’m a Scrooge? That I don’t love my family? That I’m lazy?

Ava here – Amy is just trying to work the room.  Rice Krispie Treats are not cookies. They are especially not Christmas cookies. Never have been, never will be. Not gonna happen. If she really wanted to pull it off she should have posted this picture instead.    

We put the onus on you, Dear Reader. What do you think?

Currently, I am in trouble with her family because I can’t tell them what I want for Christmas. Of course I can tell them stuff. Stuff like a puppy, a new car, Batman. Unfortunately, my family doesn’t believe any of those things are “reasonable”.

I’m feeling stifled under these constraints.

Today’s newspaper has an article with the following headline: Morbid gifts unique, but not for everyone. It’s about a “bizarre bazaar” put on by the Morbid Anatomy Museum Holiday Flea Market. I read it figuring that I needed some

Ummm, no thank you

ideas. Surely this article would have some interesting ones. Maybe they’d even be festive considering the season.

What I really learned was a bunch of stuff I do not want.

Things like a bowl of human teeth. Seriously. I want to make it perfectly clear that I do NOT want a bowl of human teeth. I don’t even want a bowl of inhuman teeth. It’s weird enough that I have two tiny boxes of human teeth, but they are human teeth that I gave birth too and am contractually obligated to save.

I also don’t need a raccoon skull. I would however appreciate a live raccoon if that’s an option.

I don’t know about you but I have to seriously wonder who wears earrings made from muskrat jaws. I don’t even think I want a live muskrat. I’ve been poisoned by that Captain and Tennille song. I do not wish to learn anything further about muskrat love.

Apparently, the crowning glory of the bizarre bazaar was a bunch of two-headed taxidermied birds. Chicks. You know, like baby chickens. With two heads.

I hope–seriously, seriously hope–my family knows me better than to ever consider that I’d want a taxidermied animal. Certainly not one with two heads. That’s just creepy.

You know what though? I do hope they know me well enough that if they were to come to discover a LIVE two-headed chicken they need to know that I want that animal at any cost. Pretty much a two-headed anything is good.

I don’t know how the Sisters missed this, but we did. It seems unbelievable to have not only George Clooney AND Downton Abbey. Nevertheless, we did. For those of you who also missed it…

The Sisters are still reeling from the hedgehog news from yesterday. Turns out all the hedgies due in at our local store have already been pre-sold. NOOOOOOOO! I guess this lets the Bright family off the hook, but just barely. Apparently, now that it’s legal, breeding is to commence immediately. That’s perfect, because we want a very wee hedgehog to love. Some people who have absolutely no idea what they’re talking about keep trying to tell us that hedgehogs are prickly. Obviously, they have no idea how to make an animal love you. We’re experts at it, and we’re simply dying to prove it to the world starting with a hedgie and graduating quickly to a red panda and then, at some point, conducting a masters class by enticing a lion cub to cuddle with us on demand. Our dreams were bolstered by the hedgie legalization. The stars are aligning. This is all going to work out. Or we’re going to die. Either way, we’ll be so happy! We’re all exclamation-pointy and giddy. Here’s more stuff to distract you with while we struggle to contain ourselves.

1. Fashion Santa. That’s what they’re calling him. He’s a Toronto model named Paul Mason, and he’ll be in the mall in the Yorkdale Mall for the holiday. You can take and post selfies with him for charity. All the funds go to a Canadian charity, Hospital for Sick Children. The internet has lost its mind. Half of the people are appalled and are screaming that this is ruining Christmas because apparently half of the internet doesn’t have enough stuff to keep themselves busy and feel the need to freak out about absolutely nothing. The other half can barely keep their pants on; this Santa is so pretty. The Sister’s love Santa and possibly love Paul Mason. We’ll bet underneath all that Santa hair that man is epic considering those cheek bones. We’re just saying we’ve always hated that song I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus because it’s stupid, but this fellow has made us pause.

2. Chickens. The good news just keeps coming! In addition to this hedgehog revolution, the city council has also decided that we can have chicken coops in the city!! The fact that we’re even remotely interested in having chickens befuddles us as much as our families, but we do. We don’t want just any stupid chickens. We want ourselves some cool and cute designer chickens. Have you seen the frizzle chickens? How about those gorgeous black ones? We’re humming the Farmer in the Dell while we’re hunting down chicken coop supplies on Amazon. Now we figure we just need to figure out what the hell a dell is and we’re all set.

3. Oh, Tarzan! This movie did not need to be made. We’re putting that out there right in front. It doesn’t matter though, because we’re going to see it immediately after it comes out. Look who they cast as the lead – Eric from True Blood. He was delicious as a vampire and we expect no less as the Lord of the Apes. We do like the twist this plot has taken with the story, and the trailer is epic. Oh, and do you see his abs? Pause for a moment and think how many carbs Mr. Skarsgard had to eschew to get those ridges. We’re betting he hasn’t had a cookie in six years. We’re not willing to give up cookies – not even for Tarzan. We tried once. Worst twenty minutes of our lives. We are however completely willing to eat cookies while watching this movie. We’d even share if Mr. Skarsgard wants one.

4. One ring to rule them all. Ava’s birthday was characterized by jewelry this year. She got the sea shell ring she wanted from Amylynn, but what she really, really wanted was this one. It looks like something stolen directly from Maleficent’s jewelry box. It’s gorgeous and stunning and she loves it. Part of the appeal is probably that

Oh PUPPY!!

it’s also very dangerous looking. And medieval. This is the kind of ring that looks like it has a curse on it. Surely you can see why that’s so appealing.

5. Self-torture. It’s possible Amylynn is a masochist. At lunch we went to the mall and while we were there we thought we could handle going into the pet store. All we wanted to know was if they were going to carry hedgehogs. Ava was pretty sure we could control ourselves. Amylynn merely laughed. Before we entered the store, Ava stated we were only going in as far as the counter to talk to a human. We would NOT be looking at the puppies. We would NOT be touching puppies. Amylynn cackled and skipped to the back of the store where she promptly squatted down on the floor and played with the French bulldogs. She then made Ava look at all the puppies, squeal at them in unison because how could you not, and take pictures with our phones. It was miserable and adorable all at the same time. We managed not to adopt 57 dogs while we were in there, but that was a miracle. By the way, the clerk barely new what a hedgehog is because she’s an idiot.

Did you hear a SQUEE hanging over the desert tonight? The newspaper informed the Sisters today that state wildlife officials have removed hedgehogs from the list of restricted animals where we live.

If you’ve read this blog for only ten minutes then you know we’re desperate for a hedgehog.

D e s p e r a t e.

We’ve considered illegal means. Hedgehog trafficking so to speak.

We have pined, and craved, and yearned for a hedgehog.

We’ve picked out names (Hazel? Maisy? Beatrix? or Archie? Rupert? Barnaby?).

We designed little outfits for them (a sailor-hog? A ballerina?). We imagined little hedgehog castles.

Now our dream can become a reality.

We’ve informed our families of what we want for Christmas.

All right, Brights. The spiky little ball of love is in your court.

At least one Sister is a big fan of Dave Grohl and The Foo Fighters. We’re both big fans of the Muppets.

This is a win-win. Also, we always love it when we get to see Muppet legs.

Far be it from me to make fun of another writer. The Sisters think this whole writing thing is way, WAY too hard to cast aspersions.

Often the hardest parts to write are the sex scenes. There is the difficult emotional quotient to sort out, but that’s not even the worst of it. It’s crazy-hard to keep track of how many hands and legs are in play and whether or not something is even physically possible. It’s painstaking and — in my opinion — totally un-sexy to write.

How shocked should we be that there are awards for the worst sex scene? The Literary Review started giving out the award for bad sex in fiction 23 years ago. The goal is “to draw attention to poorly written, perfunctory or redundant passages of sexual description in modern fiction, and to discourage them”.

Morrissey, the singer/song writer of The Smiths has written his debut novel. List of the Lost has had some murky reviews, but they say any publicity is good publicity. Sadly, or wonderfully I guess, depending on how you want to spin this, Morrissey won the Literary Review award.

This is the passage that cinched it for him. Hold on to your pants.

At this, Eliza and Ezra rolled together into one giggling snowball of full-figured copulation, screaming and shouting as they playfully bit and pulled at each other in a dangerous and clamorous rollercoaster coil of sexually violent rotation with Eliza’s breasts barrel-rolled across Ezra’s howling mouth and the pained frenzy of his bulbous salutation extenuating his excitement as it whacked and smacked its way into every muscle of Eliza’s body except for the otherwise central zone.

Not only is it devoid of any emotion, it’s unabashedly confusing. What the hell happens there? I’m not completely convinced that sex actually happens. Is it a paranormal? If not, why all the screaming, shouting and howling?

I’d like to note that the romance community has taken years, nay decades of abuse over purple prose, but “… bulbous salutation extenuating his excitement” is possibly the worst I’ve ever heard.

You know what I think the man needs? A good dose of a romance novel so he knows how sex is written. All those “literary types” out there need to know that just because it’s not a romance doesn’t mean the sex has to suck.