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“Todd, I spent three hours this afternoon curating a Christmas playlist,” she scolded him. “Just take one night off from listening to your hockey match and help me decorate the tree.”
She had several ornaments sitting next to their couch while Todd put the finishing touches on stringing the lights.
“It’s so embarrassing we’ve waited this long to do the tree and put up the mantle,” she explained while organizing the ornaments by color. “Katie’s had her tree up since, like, Thanks-freaking-giving.”
Her playlist consisted largely of Michael Buble and Justin Bieber’s Christmas album with several tracks from a Starbucks-created Spotify list sprinkled in. She had posted it on her previously-defunct blog earlier that day in hopes of gaining some subscribers, but none had taken the bait yet. She also debated posting photos of her Christmas decorations should the filtered pictures turn out well enough, but that was still “tbd” in her mind.
“You okay?” Todd asked while she aggressively and deliberately sorted everything.
“Yeah, I’m just, like, annoyed,” she responded.
Todd debated whether he should remain silent or ask what was wrong, only to decide that he really had no other choice but to hear her out.
“It’s just, like, I know I didn’t plan a Christmas party this year, but I’m always the one who hosts it,” she explained. “If you think Katie’s going to host a successful ‘Secret Santa’ party, you’re just, like, dumb.”
Todd had completed stringing the lights on the tree but decided to pretend like he was still making some adjustments in an effort to look distracted and avoid doing anything else. His scotch was across on the other side of her on the coffee table, but he knew seeking it out was going to be a dicey move.
“It’s just like, sorry I’m so busy planning to be her maid-of-freaking-honor and you’d rather throw Christmas parties,” she went on. “Ugh, I don’t know why I even care.”
Todd followed with a half-hearted, “Right?” even though he wasn’t totally sure what she had just said. At this point, getting his scotch from the table was paramount and more important to him than pretending to be busy. Stepping over her, he asked, “Alright, should we get these ornaments on the tree or what?”
“Chill,” she said, “I’m still sorting. I have a method.”
Unsure of what to do, he sat down on the couch next to the tree and picked up his phone to check his group text. Thirty seconds after seeing what had transpired since they began their night of decorating.
She rose from the box of ornaments and stood over him – “Are you seriously just going to sit there while I do all the work?”
He was confused as to what he was supposed to be doing, so he did the only thing he could: ask what he was supposed to be doing.
“What am I supposed to be doing?” he chimed in.
“I don’t know, but you’re being super unhelpful just sitting there on your phone talking to your friends about the hockey or whatever. But I get it, it’s fine, you don’t want to help.”
He attempted to give some sort of justification for his actions but he couldn’t come up with any because, frankly, his actions didn’t need any justification. Beginning to stutter with confusion, he set his phone and scotch down and stood up to again pretend like he was helping.
“Okay, what can I do?”
“Can you pour me some more pinot?” she asked.
He approached the kitchen, and in an attempt to make good, he loudly complimented the mantle she had put together while he was at work that day.
“I mean, I get it, you’re trying to be nice,” she began, “But it still looks like shit. The ribbon is all smushed and half of the greenery is already dead.”
“Well,” he gently responded while filling up her wine glass, “I think it looks good.”
“Yeah, but you don’t get it, Todd. You’re a boy.”
He wasn’t totally sure what that meant, but bringing the wine to her was easier than asking for clarification or making a statement about reverse sexism.
“Okay, now we can put the ornaments on the tree,” she said while standing up from her crouched position. “I have a whole aesthetic planned out, so don’t feel badly if I move your ornaments. I’d tell you not to help at all, but I want you to be in the Insta I post.”
Grabbing a mid-sized red bulb, he gently placed it on the bottom branch on the left side of the Douglas Fir she had delivered earlier that morning.
“No, not there,” she scolded him. “Put it at the top so I can get this picture.”
“Here?” he asked.
“Ugh, no, let me show you. You’re so clueless. Like, do you even know what you’re getting me for Christmas yet?” .
Respond
Will
Will (Twitter / Instagram) is the host of The Sunday Scaries Podcast.
@willdefries
@willdefries
defriewf
will@grandex.co
Lol hockey match
Not to mention “talking to your friends about the hockey or whatever”
She clearly doesn’t know I plan the best parties…
Do you want her ruining marglife?
I’m glad someone else noticed that. That made me irrationally angry for no real reason
Sadly I have friends that say stuff like that and I just ignore it and laugh.
Hey, Pop. Who’s winning the match?
We all know there’s only one acceptable Christmas gift in Girl’s eyes, and it rhymes with “schmengagement schming”
I’m willing to bet good money she’s getting that ring in the foreseeable future
Todd’s inner monologue during the great, scotch debate
The scotch debate is the real plot line here.
Any way you slice it, Girl is a Grade A cuntasaurus…
via GIPHY
sup
Things Todd Is Thinking About Getting Girl For Christmas:
– Single status
– A kidnapped dog
– One less roommate
– An unhealthy obsession stalking Claire’s Instagram
– Mental breakdown
Things Todd wants for Christmas
1. His balls back
2. See number 1.
you forgot Claire on that list
You are correct. However, I feel he needs to get his balls back before he’ll actually admit (out loud) to wanting Claire for Christmas. Once those are back he’s all in for Claire
Arrangement in my house: I put up the tree, the wife decorates it. Neither interrupts the other, but we get each other drinks throughout the process. Also neither one of us is a sociopath like Girl, so that probably makes things easier.
Can you talk to Todd about the advantages of dating someone who is sane? Apparently none of his friends want to jump in.
Man’s beyond help. There’s nothing we can do.
Seriously. Fuck Todd. He deserves all of this. Sperry is the only innocent bystander at this point.
pghrproblems wouldn’t know. BUUUUT dating someone who is drunk is key.
Can confirm. Bottle of wine a day keeps the murder away.
Conversely, bottle of wine a night can give me quite a fright – been on the other end of that situation.
Can confirm. This is my parents routine and they have enjoyed 33 years of freaky blissful marriage.
She thinks she knows what Todd is buying her…can’t wait to see her reaction when it isn’t a ring.
I can’t wait to see PGPs reaction when it is a ring. I have zero faith in Todd now.
Allowing Todd to get engaged is ONLY allowable if we get to read TGDAG: Get Left at the Alter
Would also allow for Chronicles of Todd: Solo Honeymoon
At that point, I think it would be time for Todd’s dad to step in.
Have we met Todd’s parents yet? I don’t think we have unless I missed it. Will could really fuck us over and not even cover their weekend in town, just Chronicles of Todd: Todd Drives His Mom, Dad and Sister to The Airport Sunday Afternoon Following Their 3 Day Trip to the City, Let’s Listen to Their Conversation About Girl
(title might need some work, but you get the idea)
Yeah Todd’s parents were in town and his Dad took him to the bar, asked him if she was the “one” to know if he needed to entertain her or just ignore her while she got cozy with Todd’s mom. Which TGDAG I couldn’t tell you, but it was before Derby
““Todd, shoot me straight. You marrying this girl or what?”
After a hard gulp, Todd’s wide eyes tell his dad everything he needs to know. Todd’s father goes back to the table, sits down, and remains stoic for the remainder of the dinner now that he knows he doesn’t need to make much of an impression.”
https://pgparchive.wpengine.com/things-girls-do-after-graduation-meet-the-parents/
My bad. I was thinking that was Girl’s parents.
I wonder how Will is debating the outcome. I bet he writes both sides and drunkenly submits one. Either way the site will go apeshit with either outcome.
Is this where I mention I got yelled at for not buying a (non-engagement) ring for my ex for Christmas one year? Starting to hit a little too close to home here
It is the most subtle things in these stories that prove how channeled in you are to your own inner basic girl. “hockey match” easily glossed over but so spot on.
I didn’t even realize what I had read and couldn’t figure out why I was so irrationally angry until you pointed it out.
“Okay, now we can put the ornaments on the tree,” she said while standing up from her crouched position. “I have a whole aesthetic planned out, so don’t feel badly if I move your ornaments. I’d tell you not to help at all, but I want you to be in the Insta I post.”
Had to take a breather after I read this sentence. Literally was sweating I was so pissed off.
Happens to me every week, that’s why I bring a sweatband to work on Wednesdays.
I do that for the meat sweats
Meanwhile Todd is getting nada because mama is poor and funemployment is not lucrative.
The weekend after Thanksgiving is the appropriate time to put up a tree.
Fuck this comment is in the wrong spot I’m terrible.
No, you’re incredible. Never forget that.