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Well I have to say my Christmas was disappointing, but luckily only half-disappointing because I'm half Jewish. Why, might you ask? Because one of my parents is Jewish. No no, why was your Christmas disappointing, might you then clarify? Because I didn't get a damn kickball for Christmas, that's why! This has happened every single year since I can remember. For example, here's a short recap of one Christmas, when I was 5:
Mom: Aaron's Little Brother, why don't you open the first present?
Aaron: Mom, his name is Andy.
Mom: Oh yeah.
Andy: *rip rip open open rip rip* Huzzah! A fire truck! With real tied-up firemen inside!
Dad: I heard Santa stole it from the local precinct. Which reminds me, hurry up, we're moving to Mexico.
Mom: Aaron, stop kicking all the presents.
Aaron: But I'm trrrying to find which one is my kiiiickball! God!
Mom: I don't think Santa brought you a kickball. They're too dangerous. You'll kick your eye out.
Aaron: What the hell is that? Andy got a BB gun, and he's only 3!
Mom: Less complaining, more present-opening.
Aaron: Oh, fine. *rip rip open open rip rip* What? World Peace? What is this crap!? Take it back! *rip rip open open rip rip* And my two front teeth? I haven't even lost them yet! Did you pull these out of some other kid?
Dad: How many times do I have to tell you? It was Santa!
*Sigh...* If the meaning of Christmas isn't getting new kickball equipment from Santa and then playing until you die, then I guess maybe I just don't understand Christmas.
OK! So now that I've alienated and/or offended half our team, Let's Play Some Kickball! See the main page for the next game time. If you don't come, Baby Jesus will cry. (OK, there goes the other half...)
--Aaron
Have a Holiday kickball-related moment to share? E-mail it to kickball@usc.edu!
© 2005 Aaron Kositsky & USC Kickball Club.
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