Santa brought dirty ducks.
So many things to tell you about this Monday. Like many of you, I've been busy trying to get all my Christmas ducks in a row. I had no idea what this would really mean...
I've almost made myself sick trying to make sure I please the masses of my family. That's not what this special holiday is about, but we all fall for the trappings of commercialism and good ole guilt. (Guilt, oh how I flipping hate you.)
Anyway, last night we went to a beautiful Christmas party and Santa was there handing out gifts. This dude was the real deal. I've never seen a better Santa. Only he gifted my eight year old daughter boxing gloves. (Okay, so yes, I supplied the gloves for both daughter and son) Well, all the other girls got Barbies, stuffed toys, make up. It crushed her. She cried her little heart out to the ducks. (this party took place on a small farm and I found her crying to ducks) I almost died of guilt. Ran right to the store after the party and bought stuffed dogs, nail polish, etc. After we get home, the stuffed dog is forgotten and the gloves are on and being used on her 14 year old brother while she laughs her fool little head off. She LOVED the gloves. Sigh. I need a glass of wine. Screw it, I'm reaching for the strong stuff.
I have to admit, I've been just as bad. (I don't have ducks to tell my sorrows to, just a six foot three redneck husband.)
Books sales are down. I add that to the list of crap I stress over. It got to the point I cried off all my make up into a towel while my hubby patted my head repeating, "It's okay, Darlin." over and over... sweet man. I woke up this morning to see books moving again. Santa is REAL folks and I have the best hubby ever. He is as good as a listener as those damn ducks. So now I call him duck.
This is my Public Service Announcement. Don't Trust Ducks.
Did you know that it's very, very important to wash your hands both before and AFTER making dinner? I made salsa with fresh jalepenos and forgot to wash my hands AFTER. Why? because Hubby needed something. But then I went to use the potty and found myself five minutes later with tears running down my face while scooting across the carpet like a dog with worms. I was on FIRE in places that you want hot, just not THAT HOT. The best damn laugh my husband ever had in his life. He quacked up. (bad pun but it's true)
I think I'm having duck for dinner.
I've almost made myself sick trying to make sure I please the masses of my family. That's not what this special holiday is about, but we all fall for the trappings of commercialism and good ole guilt. (Guilt, oh how I flipping hate you.)
Anyway, last night we went to a beautiful Christmas party and Santa was there handing out gifts. This dude was the real deal. I've never seen a better Santa. Only he gifted my eight year old daughter boxing gloves. (Okay, so yes, I supplied the gloves for both daughter and son) Well, all the other girls got Barbies, stuffed toys, make up. It crushed her. She cried her little heart out to the ducks. (this party took place on a small farm and I found her crying to ducks) I almost died of guilt. Ran right to the store after the party and bought stuffed dogs, nail polish, etc. After we get home, the stuffed dog is forgotten and the gloves are on and being used on her 14 year old brother while she laughs her fool little head off. She LOVED the gloves. Sigh. I need a glass of wine. Screw it, I'm reaching for the strong stuff.
I have to admit, I've been just as bad. (I don't have ducks to tell my sorrows to, just a six foot three redneck husband.)
Books sales are down. I add that to the list of crap I stress over. It got to the point I cried off all my make up into a towel while my hubby patted my head repeating, "It's okay, Darlin." over and over... sweet man. I woke up this morning to see books moving again. Santa is REAL folks and I have the best hubby ever. He is as good as a listener as those damn ducks. So now I call him duck.
This is my Public Service Announcement. Don't Trust Ducks.
Did you know that it's very, very important to wash your hands both before and AFTER making dinner? I made salsa with fresh jalepenos and forgot to wash my hands AFTER. Why? because Hubby needed something. But then I went to use the potty and found myself five minutes later with tears running down my face while scooting across the carpet like a dog with worms. I was on FIRE in places that you want hot, just not THAT HOT. The best damn laugh my husband ever had in his life. He quacked up. (bad pun but it's true)
I think I'm having duck for dinner.
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