This morning, I was on the phone with a friend when she asked if I was joining the “pie-face craze”. I was like, wha? “But seriously, what did you just say?” I asked.
“Pie-Face,” she repeated. “It’s a game. Apparently it’s the most sought-after toy this Christmas, and all the moms on the Naples Moms Facebook group are going crazy trying to find it for their kids.”
I confessed that I had no idea what she was talking about, and that I was pretty happy about my ignorance. Little did I know how much happier I was about to become, as she began to describe said game.
“It’s this little hand with a crank, and you put pie on the hand, and everyone takes turns turning the crank, and at some point the hand will randomly throw the pie into someone’s face. But you never know who it’s going to be.”
“Oh. My. Good. God.” I said. “So it’s Russian Roulette, with pie? That’s…so very American of us.”
You know, normally I don’t jump on the denigrating-America-for-being-American bandwagon. I mean, we are what we are, and I’m part of that, and I have dubious cultural mores and a suspicious lack of both artistic sense and geographical education that mark me as thoroughly American as the rest of us. But sometimes something like this happens, and I just can’t handle how dumb we are.
But Calah! I hear the internet protest. You’re missing the point. The point is, no one knows when the pie is going to hit them! That way it’s a surprise, see?
I see, peasants. I see. Might I humbly suggest the following? On Christmas morning, give each child in your household a small pie. Tell them that at any point throughout Christmas day, they can choose to throw their pie in someone else’s face, without warning. This would increase both the element of surprise and the delight of the household children, while significantly decreasing your level of idiocy in spending days searching for (and actually purchasing!) a plastic hand to throw pie at your face. Win-win.
But then again, as I pull up the news and am reminded that Donald Trump is still a contender for our Presidency, and that his existence is not actually the elaborate hoax I keep praying for, I wonder if maybe this isn’t the very Christmas gift we all deserve. Trump for President, and pie in our faces. Love, the Hogfather.
HO. HO. HO.
(If you want to buy this horrible game, you can do it here through my amazon associates link, and I will get a portion of the money you might as well have just spent on pie. Because you already have hands.)