Lushgurl reminded me of an event that went down last week involving me making an ass out of myself (I do this quite often). Since I'm always making fun of others (read: mostly my sick mother, as it's much easier to pick on sick people because they can't fight back), I will share this little story.

Reluctantly.

Lushgurl and Devilteen graciously offered me the use of their home and hands to help me wrap the umpteen million gifts I swore I wouldn't buy my spoiled gremlins and husband but ended up buying anyway. A few days prior a mutual friend had decided to buy the duo a DVD player. He told me the week before and I figured I would buy them some DVDs to go with it. I imagined the surprise when they opened first the DVD player, then the movies from yours truly, The Maven: giver of life. Or entertainment. Or something moderately worthwhile, anyway.

I wrap up the gift and make my way over to their house. Lushy and DT start to tell me about how badly they felt that they didn't have a gift for me. How they were going to package up some baked goods but didn't have the time and Lushgurl even got a little teary in the process.

In typical Maven fashion, I rev up my mouthpiece and start spewing out niceties such as 'Christmas isn't about gifts, you know. It's about family, friends, love, joy, peace... Materialism is so overrated. It's the thought that counts. Your friendship is way more important to me than anything you could wrap up for me.' The sweetness just flows from my lips. I feel very good about myself, being the big person. I didn't even feel disappointed on the inside.

Ok, maybe a little. Lushy makes these German cream cookies that are out of this world and I was hoping to get my tastebuds on them. But I digress.

'Well, I can bring out a tray of goodies, at least,' says Lushgurl. Big Girl Maven says that would be lovely, and enjoys a few tasty morcels while the girls open their gift from my family, hold the Spawnling and help me wrap. Life is good. Perfect. I feel so centered and mature and smart.

I sit myself down by the tree and shuffle some bags around from behind me. I don't want to squish any of the girls' wrapped gifts while I'm working on my own. Thoughtful Maven. Thoughtful and Smart.

Very smart.

About three hours later, there is a large pile of wrapped, material love on the couch. I gather up the goodies and nearly take one of the girls' gifts home with me. It was the one directly behind where I was sitting that I had displaced from underthe tree. So, I replace it and stand up, gathering my things.

'Aren't you forgetting something, Maven?' asks Lushgurl.

'No, I think I have it all, thanks.' And I really do; Even at nearly 2am I have my act together. Way to go, me.

'You're definitely forgetting something. What about that bag there?'

'No that's one of yours. I just had it with my stuff so I wouldn't squish it. I put it back under the tree for you.'

'I'm pretty sure it's yours,' says Devilteen.

'No, that's not mine. That's yours. Trust me.'

'Why don't you check it and see?'

Stupid people. Don't they know their own gifts? Don't they know what they wrapped stuff in? What the hell is wrong with these two? I need to start screening my friends. Maybe give them IQ tests or something beforehand so I'm not blindsided by cluelessness.

So I spend the next little while trying to point out that it's their damn gift. I didn't bring this bag. I know my Christmas bags. That's not my wrapping style, anyway. There's a card in there and I didn't include cards in my gifts to the kids or husband. Heck, I didn't even bring cards.

Eventually they nearly yell at me to open the card and make sure, for goodness sake.

'But I don't... Oh! Oooh....'

Somewhere in my little brain, a tumbleweed bumps a lightswitch on as it blows on down Gullible Blvd.

Inside I find a lovely card and a whole whack of baked goods, including many highly coveted German cream cookies. The girls can't stop laughing at my expense and I can't stop saying 'I really hate you guys' in various ways over and over.

I wonder if they make dunce caps big enough for me?

That's a rhetorical question, just in case you were wondering.