This is an ancient and time-honored mom tactic.
Text the halls with icons of emotions!
Either her mood turned on a dime, or she was too filled with rage to remember to update her mass texting list.
Given the choice, I would rather that Santa gave me coal instead of colon. Coal isn't as smelly and only slightly more messy. Plus, to "put colon in your stocking" is laced with way more innuendo than I'm comfortable with.
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