And It Didn’t Even Require a Visit From the Ghost of Christmas Past
The Christmas spirit finally found me last night while I was in the local paint-you-own-pottery store with twenty-six Boy Scouts, supervising the painting of twenty-six ornaments. Christmas Spirit, it seems, will find you in the most illogical of circumstance and location.
So, after the ornament paint-a-thon, I went home, busted out the mixing bowls and proceeded to stir up a batch of Son-in-Law cookies (which would be my mother’s special recipe for oatmeal raisin cookies, thus christened because two-out-of-three Sons-in-Law recommend them. Just in case your enquiring mind wanted to know).
Before they go to sleep tonight, the children will place their letters to Santa under their pillows in accordance with our St. Nicholas eve tradition. With any luck, Santa’s elves will prove more trustworthy than that damn Tooth Fairy, chocolates will replace the letters by morning and a lovely trail of Elf Dust will lead from windowsill to bed in each child’s bedroom.
Because I have the Spirit, man!
Today was nice
(I change topics faster than Britney Spears changes wigs, don’t I? Yes, yes I do)
My boss and eight members of my Board of Directors whisked me away by limousine to the Country Club for a fancy lunch. They gave me pink roses and jewelry and made speeches about how awesome I am and about how much they will miss having me around; it was like a first date only better.
I should totally quit my job more often. Also, my head may be fifty percent larger than it was yesterday.
But, look, Ma; no more Bah-Humbug!
*Click on photo to enlarge. But, if you do, please for the love of god, disregard the tacky trailer park in the background because, nothing says classy like a limo parked in front of a trailer park. Or, I guess that would be klassy.