Oxy. Morons. Among us. Again.

So, I am at Wal-Mart. (Yeah, I know). Wal-Mart is not always considered a Trophy Wife destination, but heck, it's got lots of awesome cool stuff and it's cheap. I find orchids for two bucks each because the hideous, shiny holiday pots in which they sit are broken. I grab an armful. I briefly consider smashing a few more of the pots.

Note: Briefly. I would never do such a thing. Not even for two-buck orchids.

I find bendable, poseable snowmen and santas for a buck each. They are like Gumbys, except taller. I buy two. I place them around the house in pilates positions, such as but not limited to a full plank and a bridge position.

Note: Santa's boots get in the way because a bridge is best executed in bare feet. Safety first.

I am looking for table coverings. Sixty people will descend upon my house to eat waffles and scrambled eggs and make foam Christmas tree hats. A breakfast gathering calls for plastic table coverings, not linen. Linen is far too stuffy for waffles and whipped cream and errant blueberries.

Note: And thirty children.

And then on the party aisle, the oxy.moron rears its head.


Yes, the Best Occasions Plastic Tablecover.

Honey, the boss is coming over for dinner. Where the heck is our fancy Best Occasions Plastic Tablecover?

Heck, yes.