Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Moosing Season is Upon Us.

   For those of you that know me, you may have heard talk about the "Moose" around Christmas time.  For those of you who are unfamiliar with this, let me give you a visual.  This is Mr. Moose:
   Mr. Moose has a long and illustrious history with my mother and I.  He first came into our lives as a useless piece of dollar store garbage my Mom had gotten from likely a Secret Santa game or some other similar nonsense.  At this point, I was probably in middle school.  Clearly, this silly Christmas trinket was not of any value to my mother, which led to him being placed in my room.  You see, my Mom had a strange habit of putting things in my room that she didn't want.  Socks, playbills, crafty gifts, etc.  The Moose was no exception. 
   Being the defiant adolescent that I was (OK, I was never defiant, but I was willing to fight back), I put the Moose back in her room.  Unknown to me at the time, this was the fateful action that set the years long Moose war into action -- a war that still rages on today with no discernible end in sight.  Not to be outdone, my mother then HID the Moose in my room.  Naturally, I had to retaliate, so I hid the Moose in HER room.  A vicious cycle had begun and neither of us were willing to concede defeat.  The war must continue. 
   Fast forward to Christmas Eve.  My Mom, Dad and I always opened our gifts to each other on Christmas Eve (and the gifts from "Santa" because my Mother, to this day, has not admitted that St. Nick is a figment of our imagination, and she still signs gifts "from Santa" and from all the reindeer).  There was a small package under the tree with my name on it.  I tore into it with gusto, only to discover... THE MOOSE.  All nicely wrapped up and apparently sent just for me from the North Pole from "Santa".  Yeah.  Like Santa would have the audacity to ally himself with my mother.  This was getting out of hand.
   From that moment on, I vowed to do all in my power to one-up my scheming mother the following year... and every year after that.  Over the years, there have been some pretty elaborate pranks involving her boss, the safe at my job, my college professors, her co-workers, wait-staff, my roommates, ransom notes, breaking and entering, misuse of judicial power, misuse of dating web-sites, and countless other moose-related shenanigans.  What is funny though is that Christmas will never be complete again without the stupid dollar store moose.  Because he has become so precious to us, we have established some rules that MUST always be followed.

1.  The Moose cannot travel via the U.S. Postal Service, lest he get lost or broken.  This rule has, however, been BROKEN by my mother, which I believe should entitle me to initial custody this year.

2.  The Moose may only be used for harassment, vilifying, embarrassment, or other activities between the dates of Thanksgiving Day and Christmas Day.  This is a mere 8 days away.  *Insert evil laughter here*  Plotting and scheming has already commenced.

3.  Other than rules 1 and 2, there are no other rules.  And no, this is not like Fight Club.  We can talk about Moosing.


   As such, Moosing season is nearly upon us and I must prepare.  Never again will I be surprised with the Moose on the judge's bench in the courtroom, or on my professor's podium in a lecture hall, or WANTED posters littering my college campus.  This year I shall reign triumphant in the Moose war!  I will prevail in the Moose prank-ery and wear the title of "Superior Moose-er" for the whole of 2011!  Look out, Mother!!  The Moose is coming for you!

Here is a look at my (awesome) mother and I  :)    Love you!

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