The calendar was full. Eleanor diligently glued a cotton ball on Santa’s beard for 25 days.
NOTHING could stop this holiday from being fabulous. Not even my dreadful head cold/sinus infection. Consider, if you will:
Spending the morning sorting Froot Loops by color, as part of a present for my brother, Erich. You know a day that starts this way is gonna be great, right?
RIGHT! Now bring on the pancakes!
Bring on the bell choir performance/carol sing-along!
(I’d like to spend a moment here to congratulate the person in charge of the concert for correctly referring to the ensemble as a “carillon,” as opposed to “hand bell ringing bell group,” which is how the lady at the retirement home referred to us.)
Bring on the meatball sandwich dinner at my house! (Yeah, I really scaled back the cooking/baking this year. Last year, I made a ham with roasted pear & cranberry chutney, and for dessert served four kinds of homemade cookies plus a grand trifle that took three days to prepare. This year I dumped frozen meatballs in a Crock Pot and called myself done.)
Bring on the Grand Finding of the Pickle! (My mom hid a cotton-stuffed pickle on my Christmas tree. Brian found it and won a copy of the “Munchkin” game.)
AND NOW . . . bring on the RAVE PARTY!
Yeah. My parents had purchased these little “finger lazers” for everyone as part of an object lesson about light, rainbows, and God’s promises. So for about twenty minutes, my house looked like this:
I DARE YOU to prove your Christmas was more rockin’ than THIS.
Oh! And Christmas Eve is the only evening I’ll light all the candles in the house. So now I have little wax spots allll over my fireplace. But it was purty.
After the light display, my parents gave presents to the children. The boys received remote-control cars (Katie was very excited to see them driving around, and squealed) while Eleanor was given a big whiteboard and a box of dry-erase markers. Eleanor latched onto the idea immediately:
Yes, thak you, Gramo. Bring on Christmas!