No Escape Plan

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no exit It’s that time of year again. Eggnog, pretty decorations and the dreaded Christmas program at your child’s school. Don’t you just love being crammed in like sardines? And, it never fails that the guy sitting next to you has a serious case of B.O. Before long, the old lady in front of you will start ripping farts to make the occasion even more special. It’s so pleasurable trying to make idle chit chat with the other stooges that also showed up for this thing. Just when you think it couldn’t get any worse, a baby will start howling at the top of her lungs, and of course the parents won’t take her out of there. Yep, it’s Christmastime again.

We all love our kids but let’s face reality. They can’t sing and they don’t know any of the words to these weird songs that they are calling “traditional hymns”. Jingle Bells, now that’s a traditional song that these kids may enjoy singing and we might actually enjoy hearing. An hour and a half of unknown gibberish and my deodorant has given up (after all, I have had my coat on the entire time because there is not room to take the damn thing off). My head is pounding and there is little oxygen left in this room. When it is finally over, you get to wait another half an hour while 200 people try to fit out the one tiny door they call an exit. Bah Humbug!

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