I don’t do involvement

I met up with a friend today, planning to give her a special Christmas present (Snuggie, don’t be jealous), and when I arrived at the coffee shop I realized I had brought the wrong gift. Next year, no specialized gifts. I’m giving everyone the same thing, so as to prevent this type of mishap from occurring again. Next year, everybody gets a Snuggie.

While looking at the gift that she could not unwrap and take home with her, she told me her six-year-old daughter loves skiing – wants to do it all of the time. They live in a posh resort town just East of me and I am all too familiar with the way those ‘ski families’ operate. “Next thing you know, she’ll be on the ski team, I told her. “You know that’s going to take a lot of money and a lot of involvement.” Her reply, “I don’t do involvement.”

Funny, depending on the circumstance, neither do I. For a variety of reasons, I haven’t participated in family gatherings for several years. This year, my family contacted me and asked if a few of them could come over and play Just Dance for the holidays. Being a complete sucker for Just Dance, I said yes. I have several nieces and nephews and, after posing for a Polaroid picture in front of the green posterboard tree, they wanted to start playing.

One of my nephews, however, was more interested in the corks I had used to make the star atop the tree, the trivet in my kitchen and the champagne bottle corkboard. I talked to him about the crafting process and he was intrigued – wanting to see other items I had made. So, I took him around the house showing him various crafts, the last being a recent photo album from New York. A few minutes later, he came and found me. “Is it OK if I look in the album you gave me?” “Of course it is,” I replied. “You can look at any of my books.” “But there’s a half-naked woman in there.” “What? Where?” I asked and was off to find out just exactly what was going on.

Turns out there was a half-naked woman in the pics, Naked Cowgirl at Times Square – complete with saggy pasties and all.  A little while later the kids decided they wanted to make some things out of corks, like I had. So I poured all of the corks on the ground, like Lincoln Logs, and they started designing and building. I showed them a really important cork trick that is best accomplished while dining at posh restaurants – bounce the cork until it lands upright. I then went to grab the camera to capture this moment.

As I reached in the cabinet for the camera I knocked over my tin of condoms (pretty sure they’re expired). It was at this time I realized I was probably ‘exposing’ these kids to more than they’ve ever been exposed. I can guarantee they’ve never made anything out of a wine cork (let alone seen a wine cork). I can also guarantee the Girls Night Out sketch – several naked women in togas drinking wine and running across the hilltop – which I have hanging on the wall above the floor on which they were cork crafting, is not something they see everyday and will most likely be discussed with their friends.

When I returned to the kitchen they were enthralled with their wine cork forts, cars and names. “Do you think you could get more of these?” They asked. “That shouldn’t be a problem,” I assured them. Wine cork ‘collection,’ that is a cause in which I could definitely get involved.

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