T. GAMBLE: Sleep easy, Christmas is over

As I write this article it is the most important day of the year. No, I’m not writing it on Christmas day. It is Dec. 22. The last day one can order a package with any realistic expectation it will arrive by Christmas.

Let’s face it. We all have one or two relatives that we just can’t figure out what to get them. You know, 92-year-old Aunt Bessie, in the nursing home, whose only known hobby was bitching at Uncle Archie, and he’s been dead for 15 years. Or rich Uncle Jake who owns every toy known to man and, if he wanted it, he’d have already bought it.

Yes, it is shopping day D-Day. Do or die time. This is the time when all the infomercial products and doodads make their last stand.

Don’t have a clue what to get? How about My Pillow? I mean anybody might like a really cool pillow. You’ve now seen the ad 427,000 times and resisted the call to replace your own pillow 427,000 times, but, hey, maybe Aunt Bessie would like one. It probably will make you sleep better. The commercials do. It comes on and the company founder begins to blab about how he discovered My Pillow and, in less than one minute, I am asleep. Perhaps his pillows work the same way.

Maybe a few cans of Flex Seal will work. I’ve heard brain surgeons keep a can handy in case they run out of whatever it is they usually use to seal a guy’s head up after surgery: “Nurse, give me the small can of Flex Seal. Make sure you spray a straight line.”

I mean this stuff will seal up a boat after being cut in half. And we all know how many times boats get cut in half.

What in the world did the boating world do before Flex Seal? Just think, if the U.S. Navy had Flex Seal after Pearl Harbor, we might have won the war in a week or two.

Wives, you could probably use it to spray a seal across your husband’s mouth. This might come in handy after he’s had about three rum and Cokes and is about to tell the boss what he really thinks about the way he runs the company.

If all else fails, there are a host of gag gifts that will be sure to leave Aunt Bessie rolling in the aisle.

How about a Donald Trump Chia Pet. Oh boy, that’s sure to get her going as his hair grows day by day.

Or, on sale now — why, I do not know — a Hillary Clinton nutcracker. I swear I am not making this up. You can buy one and it is on sale. I mean who in their right mind would not want one of these?

Don’t despair, there remains soap-on-a-rope and the ever dependable food treat basket. Never mind that Uncle Rich weighs 338, is diabetic and suffers from intolerable gout. Get him a ham basket with cheese, peanuts, all surrounded by M&Ms. Nothing says Christmas like a late night run to the emergency room after he eats all that.

Well, it is do or die time. I’ll either order the Claxton Fruit Cake, which I understand can effectively be used to ward off intruders if used as a club, or buy a drone.

Yes, a drone. Everybody has one now and I’m sure Aunt Bessie could finally cultivate a hobby. She’s nosier than a CIA operative, so she could fly it over all the neighborhoods and report back as to whose car is parked where and all that kind of stuff. It will be almost as useful as the old CB radios.

Hope you had a great Christmas and sleep well. You know, you really could sleep well if you had a My Pillow.

Contact columnist T. Gamble at [email protected].