Episode Report Card Sara M: F | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Jingle Hell
By Sara M | Season 3 | Episode 10 | Aired on 12.13.1998
Back in the garage, Ruthie asks Simon about the logistics of Santa. Simon says that Santa has worked out a system for present delivery, just like Simon has devised a system for where all the lights will go in the house. Ruthie points out a box of lights that Simon didn't know existed, and asks where that goes. There she goes again, crushing the spirits of yet another beloved family member. What a loveable little scamp she is! Ruthie asks Simon how he can organize Christmas lights when he can't even wear proper pajamas. Simon says he's heard enough about the PJs (seriously. This dead horse has been beaten into the ground, through the center of the Earth, and has re-surfaced in China, where it is quietly protesting the Three Gorges Dam and the cultural heritage the world will lose with its construction, not to mention the potential environmental consequences), then tells Ruthie to go get a gift out of the neighbor's recycling bins. She runs off to do so. I hope she finds a hypodermic needle.
Matt is on the phone with his girlfriend. She doesn't know how they can go to some dance together when he doesn't have enough money for tickets and a tux and everything. I don't know, Girlfriend, but maybe it would help if you paid for your ticket your own damn self. Matt says he got a job, although he won't tell her what it is. Considering that he's currently running a comb through a ratty white beard and we saw that Santa hat that was part of his uniform, I think it's pretty easy for us to guess. Girlfriend says that she doesn't have a job and can't afford to get him anything for Christmas, all the while lazily painting her toenails. Hmm. I guess it's technically possible for this show to make women look worse than it already has, but I can't really think of how. Matt says the only present she needs to give him is having fun at the dance.
And we're at the mile-high Glenoak mall, where a line of baby-holding mothers and assorted children look pissed off. Finally, Matt, dressed in the dirtiest and shabbiest Santa suit ever, walks up and ho-ho-hos. Some midget in elf costume starts whining about how he wasn't allowed to be Santa because of his size, while Matt gets to be Santa even though he's obviously too young and probably has no experience. Matt says there's nothing to being Santa. The midget downs some product-placed Rolaids and bitches that Matt must have gotten this job "through connections." Yes, midget, life does suck like that. Unless you're a Camden.