Patsy Porco

Archive for the ‘Christmas’ Category

‘Tis the Season to Thank Your Boss

In Christmas, Christmas, Holidays, Humor on December 18, 2015 at 2:08 pm

Don’t you just hate it when you’ve given someone a present and the person doesn’t even bother to acknowledge that it was received? It’s especially hurtful if you’ve put a lot of thought or money into the gift. But, even if you’ve remembered a person at the last minute and emailed him or her a Walmart gift card, you still think you deserve to be thanked, right?

Now, I know that anyone who is reading this is thinking, “Yeah! I hear ya sister!” or something similar, using the current vernacular. You then continue the thought: “If so-and-so doesn’t thank me this year, he/she is OFF my list!” Of course, if you actually don’t send a present to so-and-so, then you will definitely hear from that person, or his or her mother, or even your mother. It’s odd how people always remember to complain.

By now, I probably have you really worked up. You’re probably thinking, “How dare they get angry with me for not sending a gift to someone who can’t even pick up the phone or send me an email?” Damn straight. You would never be so inconsiderate.

Or would you? How often does your boss give you paid days off? Sure, the government might mandate that certain days are paid holidays, but the government isn’t the one paying you to not work. And do you ever directly thank the person who is paying you? Hmmm.

Why don’t we thank our bosses? I work in a very small company and find it strange that we will all gladly accept our Christmas vacation days, and attend the holiday party, yet not acknowledge the person who provided these perks.

It might not be feasible to thank the CEO of the huge conglomerate you work for, but if your supervisor lets you leave early the day before a holiday, shouldn’t you say “Thank you”? And, if you work in a small company, isn’t it downright inexcusable not to thank your CEO, who sits nearby, for your paid company holidays?

We thank people all the time for little courtesies. So, how can we ignore the big ones? I suggest that we all thank our bosses now, before we’re the ones who are off the list next year … or on the naughty list.

And, in this season of goodwill toward men, it’s the perfect time to be grateful and gracious. And if your coworkers disagree, do it anyway … and screw ’em.

Naughty or Nice

 

(This post is an edited version of my Thanksgiving post.)

Rudy the Bad-Bad Golden

In Christmas, Christmas, dogs, Golden Retriever, Humor on December 26, 2014 at 11:46 pm

Rudy, our Golden Retriever, has spent the day lying low. If he could become invisible, he would; in the absence of an invisibility cloak, he attempted to blend in with the furniture (see photo below). As well he might. They say that you have to reprimand dogs immediately when they break the rules, because they won’t remember their transgressions the next day, or even the next hour. They are wrong. Rudy knows he’s in big trouble. Maybe he doesn’t remember why (he does), but he knows better than to ask for any special favors today … or even breathe too loudly.

Rudy 12262014

Rudy’s disgrace occurred yesterday, Christmas Day. My sister, Valencia,* her husband, Mike, and their children, Lana and Jack, invited our family to Christmas dinner at their house in New Jersey. Valencia insisted that we bring Rudy. They have a two-year-old yellow Labrador Retriever named Ozzie. Valencia assured me that the two dogs would get along wonderfully, even though they had never met.

At first, it appeared that my worries were for nothing and that Valencia was right. The dogs were initially wary of each other, but then they sniffed each others’ hind quarters and settled down. I had brought two enormous rawhide bones for them; one was pure white and one was a darker tan. I gave the lighter one to Rudy and the darker one to Ozzie. The kids and I took the dogs into the yard and tossed a ball around for them to fetch. After awhile, we went back into the house. In the kitchen, the dogs were just standing around the kitchen table when Ozzie decided that he needed to demonstrate who the alpha dog was in their house. So he started to mount Rudy. It happened in an instant and if you missed it, like my sister and brother-in-law did, you wouldn’t have known what set off the ensuing dog fight in the kitchen. Rudy, who is generally too lazy to bark for more than attention or food, bared his teeth and snarled. His snarling turned into angry barking at Ozzie. Ozzie barked back in equal anger. We were able to separate them before limbs were torn off. Poor Ozzie was at loose ends. It was his house and he deserved to call the shots, but this seven-year-old Golden seemed to think that he was the boss.

We tried to get the dogs to make up, which was just plain ridiculous. They don’t exactly kiss or shake hands. But, in time, they were able to co-exist in the same space, although they kept their distance from each other. In any event, they seemed peaceful, so we went back to preparing the dinner. Rudy went to the door to go out. Valencia let him out and noticed that he had Ozzie’s bone. He went out and hid it somewhere and came back in. Ozzie then had to go out with Rudy’s bone. Then the fun really started. Rudy went to Ozzie’s pile of Christmas presents and grabbed his stuffed animals and slobbered all over them. Then he went outside, found a big mud puddle and rolled in it. Before I was able to drag him into the house, he grabbed Ozzie’s bone from where he had hidden it. Back in the house, he headed for the living room, where he plopped his filthy body onto the floor. I cleaned him and the floor up while he gnawed on Ozzie’s bone, with Ozzie observing the proceedings from a safe distance. Then I went back into the kitchen.

My nephew, Jack, who had a fever and was resting on the couch, called me back into the living room. He thought that I should know that Rudy had vomited on their rug. Back to the kitchen I went to get cleaning supplies. As I cleaned up the pile, it became obvious that this wasn’t real vomit. It wasn’t slimy or anything. This looked like Rudy had filled his mouth with chewed up rawhide and water and spit it out.

Then it was dinner time. I filled Rudy’s bowl and Valencia filled Ozzie’s. Ozzie decided that Rudy’s dry kibble was far superior to his, so he bogarted Rudy’s dinner. Rudy sniffed at Ozzie’s bowl and rejected it, even though it had his favorite wet food mixed in with the dry kibble. Instead, he took a big gulp of water and disappeared from the room. Moments later, Jack called me back into the living room to point out another pile of rawhide bits sitting in water.

You have to realize that dinner preparations were in the works, and appetizers and drinks had been put out for us and their neighbors, so this subplot was evolving in the midst of revelry. Not everyone was aware of it, just the kids, and the mothers, who had to subdue the dog-induced mayhem.

After awhile, we all sat down to dinner and had a wonderful time. My brother-in-law is a wonderful cook and my sister is a marvelous hostess. We decided to ignore Rudy, who periodically turned up with Ozzie’s stuffed animals, Lana’s stuffed animals, and anything he could stuff into his mouth and contaminate. Ozzie was always in the same room as Rudy, but never too close, as if he were saying, “Look, I’m a good dog. I’m nothing like that horrible Rudy.” All in all, it was a great day. I don’t think Rudy will be invited back again, but I’m hoping we will.

* Valencia isn’t her real name. My mother never would have named her after a type of orange. The other names were changed, as well, but not as creatively.

A Gift Like No Other

In Birthdays, Christmas, Hanukkah, Holidays, Humor on December 1, 2013 at 9:41 pm

In this season of giving and sharing, it’s easy to overlook the intangible presents: gifts that will last far longer than the season’s newest electronics or fashions.

For instance, the gift of the giver’s experience will be used again and again, but it’s usually less appreciated than a petrified fruitcake or a donation made in the recipient’s name.

That’s why it’s best to give a gift that your recipient wants — and accompany it with a cautionary tale. As an example, you could give your niece that Victoria’s Secret gift card that she asked you for. While she’s squealing in delight, you might say offhandedly, “They sell very nice cotton underwear there … the type a nice girl would wear. I had a friend who bought sexy underwear from that store. She ended up as a teenage mother with no child support. She had to clean offices at night to support her baby, while the baby’s father went off to college. Her parents were not happy that they had to watch the baby every night.” Your advice will probably be laughed off, but it will not be forgotten.

Before you start handing out unsolicited experience, you should make a list of things you’ve learned the hard way. You can also feel free to add lessons learned by your friends and family, but I wouldn’t use their names when relating their horror tales.

So far, I’ve come up with two life-lesson gifts that I will be bestowing on lucky family members or close friends:

Do not use chemical cleaners when you’re wearing a flimsy nightgown. Years ago, before ovens cleaned themselves, I was wearing a silk slip-like nightgown when I decided to spray the inside of the oven with an industrial cleaner. After the required amount of waiting time, I got a bucket of water and a sponge and began to wipe out the oven. Unfortunately, one of my mammary glands popped out of the top of my nightgown and came in contact with the oven-cleaning solution. As a result, the sensitive tip of this body part got burned. The phone call I made to Poison Control was extremely embarrassing … for both me and the young man who answered my call.

Take everything that a child under the age of 10 says with a grain of salt. My sister’s friend, Leslie,  got a call from her young son’s school. She was asked to come in as soon as possible. No other details were divulged. When she arrived, she was ushered into the school psychologist’s office. Her son, Joe, was in tears and was being comforted by the woman behind the desk. When Leslie asked what was wrong, the psychologist told her that Joe had been talking in class, so he was sent to see her. When she asked him why he was misbehaving, he said that his parents were out of money and that there was no food in the house.

“What?!” asked Leslie, in amazement. “We have money!”

Joe responded, “I heard Dad say that we were out of money and couldn’t spend any more.”

After thinking for a minute, realization struck. Leslie said, “He was talking about our renovation budget — the money we had to fix up the house. Dad meant that we couldn’t spend any more money on the house!”

“Well, I’m glad we’ve straightened that out,” said the psychologist, “but what about your not having any food in the house?”

Leslie responded, “We have plenty of food in the house!” They both looked at Joe for confirmation.

“Nothing that I like,” he said.

******************************************

Over the next few weeks, I’ll be adding to this list of hard-won wisdom. But, I haven’t experienced what you have experienced, so I’d love to hear your stories. I promise that when I re-tell them, I’ll change your name. Let me know what you’ve learned the hard way, in the comments section.

Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays! There are several days left of Hanukkah, so there’s still time to add unasked-for advice to every present you give this year.

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