Okay, so I just got my credit card bill and I'm all, Hey, it's not my fault! How was I supposed to resist the look on my child's face of Please God Let My Mother Buy This One Stinkin' Toy For Me And I Won't Grow Up Dysfunctional And Need Therapy!? HOW. COULD. I. RESIST?!
And that was just the beginning of the spending, what with family pictures, Christmas cards, postage for Christmas cards, shipping and handling charges, gratuitous lighting displays and assorted festive paraphernalia, Black Friday impulse buys, presents for kids, spouse, parents, grandparents, co-workers, bosses, teachers, and party hostesses, not to mention the last-minute gifts I had to buy-- full-price!-- to reciprocate gifts from People With Whom I Did Not Know I Was Exchanging Gifts.
So, um, Citibank, can't we just overlook this [insert obscene amount of money here] bill and just be friends?! Can't we?! Huh?!
Foiled by the Spirit of Pagan Commercial Greed, and my five-year-old-daughter's baby blue eyes.