Mike's Christmas 2011: "Score!"

Remember Christmas morning back in the day?  How it was always a competition with your brothers and sisters to see who had the biggest pile of gifts under the tree each year?  That was awesome.  Since I was the last of 5 kids, my pile was always the biggest...it's much easier to please a young child with a half-dozen smaller gifts than it is to please a snotty adolescent girl named Diana who always got whatever she damn well wanted from Mom.

Wait.  I digress.

Yes, back when I was wee, I was super easy to shop for.  I was usually happy if any of the following was printed on the gift I happened to be gleefully ripping open at the time:

"Playmobile"
"Nintendo"
"He-Man"
"Pillsbury"  
"Transformers"

I was a simple boy with simple needs.

Now that I'm all grown up, not a lot has changed.  I'm still a simple (semi) adult with (extremely) simple needs.  Even today, if I unwrap a gift that says "Nintendo", I'm going to be overjoyed.  Also, if you can incorporate fried cheese into a gift, I'm going to enjoy that too. 

The advent of the 2000's brought us Amazon.com which destroyed any and all mystery on what I wanted for Christmas.  If, for example, you're attempting to purchase a Christmas gift for me and you're trying to decide between a new sweater or theatre tickets, you can check my Amazon.com wishlist and find that the actual answer is "The John Rambo Complete Collectors Set".

"Buy me for Mike or the Oriental gets it."

The glory that is the Amazon.com wishlist is how I ended up with the worlds single greatest Christmas gift this year:  The 7 Color Fading Magic Showerhead.

Oh, HELL yeah. 

You see, I'm sure lots of people use their wishlists for things they need:  stuff for the baby, household items that don't quite fit the budget, etc.  Last I checked, I don't have a baby.  I do, however, want lots of stupid shit that I could not remotely justify spending money on.  I feel much better knowing that you are spending your hard earned money on my stupid shit. 

Back to the shower head.  Those of you that even remotely know me--or that attended the House of Klaaslich's super-awesome "Things that Light Up" birthday party--know that inanimate objects that sparkle, glow or blink are very important to me.  I'm a 12 year-old girl like that.  Now, each and every morning, I can wake up and take the warmest, greatest disco shower ever.

Once my wife gets out her tools and installs the damn thing, of course.