We giggled and giggled over this one. I’m calling this one, “Christmas Winner.”
Tag: Christmas
Snapshot #72
We’re waiting on Saint Helen to arrive this evening. I call this one “Reflections at the Tallahassee Airport.”
Whew!
I honestly thought I’d finally lost my mind on Sunday afternoon. My day was dedicated to wrapping gifts for our five exceptionally gifted and amazingly beautiful grandchildren with whom we get to spend Christmas in just a couple of weeks. Eeee!! I’m so excited. But I digress.
The unwrapped gifts were all in a jumble in the Texas bedroom, piled willy nilly, still in shopping bags from local merchants and boxes from Amazon. I carefully sorted and counted them, making sure each child was getting something from each of the four major categories:
- Something they want
- Something they need
- Something to wear
- Something to read
I have a love/hate relationship with this newest tradition. On the one hand it keeps me focused as I shop. On the other hand it becomes mentally exhausting, and I’m blaming it for my moment of temporary insanity.
As I separated the gifts into piles for each child I came across something I had no memory of purchasing. Not only that, it wasn’t a gift suitable for a child or even a young teenager. Where had it come from, I wondered. Who is it for? I came to the only possible logical conclusion: I’d been shoplifting while in a fugue state.
When Studly Doright came in from playing golf I sat him down and told him the awful truth.
“You’re going to have to have me institutionalized.”
“Well, okay. Let me change shoes first.”
“Dammit, Studly, I’m serious. I have this gift that I didn’t purchase. I have no idea where it came from, and I must’ve stolen it.”
“Right. I’ll probably need to put on some long pants, too.”
He was lying, though, because he went out to work in his shop for the rest day of the afternoon leaving me to ponder the state of my mind.
I was too upset to continue wrapping gifts, so I sat and flipped through channels for a bit. Here a commercial, there a commercial, everywhere a–wait! A Victoria’s Secret commercial!
It hit me then that earlier in the year I’d purchased two brassieres from VS while they’d had a promotion going on. My mystery gift had been a promotional item! Apparently I’d shoved it in a drawer and forgotten all about it.
Thank goodness. I don’t have to check into a facility for the feeble minded. At least not this week.
Peace, people.
Snapshot #69
I call this one, “Those Gifts Aren’t Going to Wrap Themselves.”
Snapshot #68
I call this one, “Tree With Cat.”
Sticky Date Nut Roll Update
Yesterday morning I posted a piece about a recipe for a candy my mom used to make. I couldn’t find her recipe for Date Nut Loaf and had to turn to Google for one.
My youngest brother, “JB,” read my post on Facebook and subsequently found his copy of the recipe. I give you the famous Date Roll: The recipe that only turned out perfectly about 10% of the time.
Thank you to THE GREAT JB! Not only did he have Mom’s recipe, but it’s in her handwriting.
Why has that become such a big deal to me? I mean having a sample of my loved one’s handwriting? It’s so personal, I guess. What will our children have of us? A text? An email?
For goodness sake, sit down right now and write a note to someone you love. Write out a treasured recipe. On paper. With a pen. In cursive.
Peace, people.
Snapshot #66
When our first child was born in May of 1978, the mother of one of my closest friends created this ornament for him. I loved her like a second mom, and although she passed away several years ago I feel her presence every year when I place this ornament on our tree.
I call this one, “Sweetest Memories.”
Snapshot #65
Once upon a time I took hours decorating our Christmas tree. I agonized over which ornament looked best in which spot. I longed to achieve a tree that was worthy of gracing a design magazine.
My need for the perfect tree took all the fun out of decorating for my kids and Studly Doright, and soon the task of hanging all of the ornaments landed squarely on my shoulders. Like a big old vacuum I sucked all the fun out of what should have been an enjoyable family activity.
Nowadays, few people other than Studly and me even see our tree, and I’ve finally learned that Christmas trees don’t have to be perfectly decorated to be perfect. So I’m calling this one, “The Perfect Tree.”
Notice Scout in the foreground. She worships our Christmas tree. Seriously.
Snapshot #64
I call this one, “Nearly Nekkid Tree.” Notice Scout as she adores her old friend.
Laughter, the Best Medicine?
Written in response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt:
Roaring Laughter
What was the last thing that gave you a real, authentic, tearful, hearty belly laugh? Why was it so funny?
Not this past Christmas, but the one before, Studly Doright and I met our kids and grandkids in Nashville, Tennessee, for the holiday. Our son and his family live in Texas. Our daughter and her family reside in Illinois. Studly and I are in Florida, so it’s a treat when we can all be together.
Rather than stay in a hotel we rented a home for the week, and made it into a temporary Doright Manor. We had a first rate time cooking and eating and playing games with the grown kids and grandkids.
One night, though, we sat the kids down in front of a movie in one room while in another the grownups played the game Cards Against Humanity. There might have been a bit of drinking involved. And by a bit, I mean copious amounts of liquor were consumed.
Our son-in-law, Stephen, having moonlighted as a bartender, knows how to mix a drink and soon had us all giggling like school children even before we started playing the game. Then the competition began.
Now if you’ve never played Cards Against Humanity you have no idea what you’re missing out on. I laughed so hard that tears rolled down my face–deep, strong belly laughs that caused my jaws and cheeks to ache well into the next week.
If laughter truly was the best medicine the Doright family could have cured every disease known to man that week. Instead, we just had a wicked good time.
Peace, people!
Caution–the game is not for the easily offended. There are references to body parts and bodily functions that aren’t often mentioned in polite company. Of course Studly and I never were much for polite company.
Praying for Eyebrowz 