Okay, NOW things are starting to feel like Christmas.

Today’s gift is a complete DINOSAUR SKELETON, which arrived in pieces for Dino Drac to put together. (As you might imagine, that was a macabre image. In human hands it would have only seemed like an archaeological process, but Dino Drac looked more like an undertaker.)

He’s afraid to guess at what type of dinosaur these bones once belonged to, and so am I. It’s not that we don’t have theories. There are simply too many dinosaurs that look like this. I consider myself a huge dinosaur fan, and Dino Drac *is* a dinosaur. Neither one of us can afford to be wrong.

It was with those apprehensions that we settled on calling it a Somethingsaurus.

We estimate the height of Somethingsaurus at a solid ten feet. He was probably a carnivorous predator, though this assumption was mostly based on us not wanting our bony pal to have been a lame scavenger, or worse, a plant-eating pacifist who wreaked no havoc.

Dino Drac isn’t big on non sequiturs, but his next question throws me for a loop: “What are those little drumstick things people use to play xylophones?”

“Mallets. Why?”

“Look at this guy’s ribcage. I hope Playmobil gives me a xylophone mallet tomorrow.”

Good call, Dino Drac.

It’s Friday. Fantastic freakin’ Friday. I’m so looking forward to having time to put more on the site than bad doodles and pictures of plastic shovels. But, since it is not the weekend yet, I must do what is necessary to survive:

That’s a Christmas tree trunk. You know, the part you slice off before setting the tree into its base. Apparently, those specific “cut pieces” are called “butts.” I can assure you that I will NEVER call them that. “Log,” okay. “Butt?” Never. I’m sticking with trunk.

Some people were sticklers about getting the wishbone from the Thanksgiving turkey. Me? I was much more focused on hunks of Christmas tree wood. Even if I typically misplaced those hunks within five hours, I just adored the idea of keeping mementos of dead Christmas trees.

Plus, for a while at least, they stunk of pine and were sticky-in-a-fun-way.

Today we pay tribute to the cut parts of Christmas tree trunks. Cheers, trunky.

A shovel, a pickaxe and a hatchet.

Joy to the world.

You can tell by Dino Drac’s forced smile that he’s not a big fan of these. And sure, I admit that this year’s Playmobil gifts are starting to feel like someone just raided their garage for passable Christmas presents.

Today, a shovel. Tomorrow, the 1986 “Chevrolet Cuties” calendar. The next day, oil.

But there’s more than meets the eye, here. Remember the theme of this Advent Calendar. “Dinosaur Expedition.” It stands to reason that we might need to excavate something. These seem like just the right tools to do that with.

He puts down the gifts, and shoots me “the look.” I’ve seen it before. Without a word, I’ve been called an asshole, a derelict and a stupid jerkface. It stings. Dino Drac’s bark is almost as bad as his bite.

Easy there, tiger. I have a strong suspicion that we’ll need those tools. I sense that BONES may be on the horizon. And I don’t mean like, chicken bones.

Dino Drac: You’re about to dig up your great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great grandpa.