We had a lovely day just me and my little family…
It was thanks to one gift of meat (MEAT! did you know that you can give meat! Special Delivery!) we had a delicious meal that we would not otherwise have had because one little boy who shall remain nameless pitched a fit in the grocery store two days before Christmas when we were supposed to be buying Christmas dinner but instead had to talk through clenched teeth and bah humbug all over the place and then remorsefully ask forgiveness because Jesus is kind to me even when I’m grouchy and so of course I should be kind to my little loves even when they’re grouchy, and all this greatly hindered all grocery-buying intentions.
And then we got home and there was a styrofoam box on my front step. I thought there might be a human head or something in it because that’s where my mind goes – sorry – but it was just good meat. That styrofoam box even came with reuse suggestions but I don’t personally like what styrofoam does when it begins to fall apart and the smell is unappealing as well. My husband suggested it gives off chemicals too.
Dear Husband had to go to work tonight because restaurant managers work on Christmas. So do the waitresses and busboys and dishwashers and cooks and bartenders and barbacks and coat check girls. It’s OK, we’re used to it.
I spent the time after the kids went to bed tidying, crocheting and watching A Christmas Carol on YouTube. It was the version with Alastair Sim. It was good, but the book was better. 😀 I crack me up.
Have I listed my grievances against blow up Christmas lawn decorations? Well, for one thing, they are cheesy. I’m sorry if you love them and I still like you if you do, but they are cheesy. AND what is with the people who don’t inflate them until they get home from work? All day long folks are passing by looking at a melted puddle of Tigger in a Santa hat. Does no one else think this is sort of gruesome? And finally, we have new neighbors this year whose blow up Christmas lawn decoration is a giant mooning Santa. Really. I’d have taken a picture but those people scare me a little and I want to try and avoid the paparazzi and Gene Simmons fight that would be sure to ensue. Anyway, I suppose I should be grateful it wasn’t a mooning baby Jesus.