The word “hate”: This was going to be called the ” ‘I hate lists’ list of things I hate,” but then I remembered I hate hate — both the word and the concept. Particularly after the way the word’s been bandied about loosely in this house of late. “I HATE you, brother!”

Big Guy’s almost broken his hate habit, though I did concede on use of “I hate when that happens.” Boots has a way to go. Hate’s his new “poppyhead, stoopit.”

Being a minority in a toilet-set-up world: Guys, can you at least put it down in my bathroom? Mom’s tired of falling in.

And while we’re at it, can anyone tell me why I’m the only one in this household who doesn’t find bodily emissions more hilarious than a night at the Improv? Could it be connect to chromosomes?

This economy: Socializing at home instead of at restaurants. Packing lunches. Walking instead of driving. Funny thing is, I’m already a year into most of the money-saving tips folks are suggesting and I have a feeling this “downturn” is going to last at least that much longer.

A former co-worker used to irritate the life out of me by referring to everything as a “challenge.” No, my friend, sometimes it really is a problem.

In this situation, though, both terms have a place. Yes, this country has huge economic problems and it’s going to take sacrifice, not shopping, to fix them. But I can’t cower in the closet — not that there’s room in any of my closets — until it’s over.

That’s where the challenge part comes in: Learning how to make the best of what might be a historically bad situation.

The neighbor’s cats: I’m on the verge of bringing out the Star Wars light sabre Big Guy blew his whole stash of Christmas money on to see if I can spook them.

Listen, little kitties: That box in the back yard filled with 200 pounds of sand was not meant to be your PortaPotty. I am a smallish person. Lugging 200 pounds of sand is no fun.

I’ve learned, though. The new sandbox has a lid. You’ll have to find a new place to do your business. He he he.

The continuing peanut-allergy bashes: A new one lands in my inbox daily. “Nut phobia is mass hysteria.” Most are based on the same article by a sociologist/physician who appears to know little about peanut allergies and the problems they bring, though a few appear to stem from nothing more than an ill-informed opinion pulled out of someone’s rear.

If you think it’s hysteria, live in our world for a week.

Getting out of bed: The problem with morning, as they say, is that it comes too early. Except lately, it’s been tardy to the point where the guys almost run breakfast and lunch together. They’ve partied into the wee hours — wee hours being 10 p.m. for them — and lazed around all morning.

Ay, but Big Guy goes back to school Monday after a six-week break which means I’ll spend a month getting his sleep cycle back on track. I have only myself to blame.

The continuing Obama bashes: He’s your next president. Accept it.  Quit clogging the courts with garbage litigation. Would you be suing if Panama John McCain had won?

Funny how Bush supporters who spent eight years crying “rally round the prez” have turned on the new guy before he’s even sworn in. Why is that not unpatriotic?

Lists masquarding as articles: Sadly, they proliferate about this time ever year. They’re devoid of content and intellectual effort. They’re lazy writing and cheap gimmicks. Particularly Top 10 lists.

Uh, oops. At least I stopped at eight — for 2008. Get it? Or maybe I’m just such an intellectual slacker that I don’t even fill out lists I don’t like to begin with.

I’d vow to do better in 2009, but I don’t like New Year’s resolutions either. Except for the time I gave up rutabagas, I’ve never had much success in keeping them beyond Jan. 2.

Despite that, here’s wishing you and yours a hate-free, economy-surviving, resolution-keeping, list-avoiding Happy New Year.

Copyright 2008 Debra Legg. All rights reserved.

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