This morning I shoved the tree out the back door with relish. And a side of cole slaw. Badum-bum. I need a little space around me and my nighttime xc-skiing isn't doing it for me. I don't mind the cold, but all the stuff acquired in the past week does overwhelm a girl--even a girl with a strict "Equal mass in, equal mass out" Policy. Getting a 12-foot tree out of the middle of our house helps my state of mind a lot. I swept up a pile of needles the size of Mr. G's head. No kidding.
Our Iowa Christmas (a slam-bam, thank you, ma'am trip since we had the funeral visitation first thing Saturday morning, followed by a 5 hour journey to D's sister's house where the party went strong until midnight) was pretty nice. The children got gifts they'll play with, things they like (more Nerf weaponry for their arsenal, games, bows and arrows). They got some new clothes and savings bonds. Mr. D and I each got a gift card from his mom which suits us perfectly. Mr. D's sister made a divine brisket and all the fixings--I'm the heaviest I've been since last winter. Two days of doing nothing but sitting in cars and living rooms and eating like the Apolcalypse is upon us has me feeling restless and sloppy.
The best part was the Pirate Game (AKA "Dirty Santa" in some circles). Years ago the adults agreed to stop exchanging gifts and bring a $25 gift to play. What a blast! Some years the game gets over fast because there's nothing too great on the table. This year set a record for steals--every gift got stolen at least once and my gift wasn't one of the worst ones out there (rare). In fact, it's safe to say my gift (homemade applesauce & raspberry jam, wool dryer balls, cheese from the factory up the road and the best Blue Cheese salad dressing you've ever encountered) was a hit. At the end of the game (which ended with a stunning move by my brother-in-law who took his own gift off the table and thus ended play for the year) Mr. D had a package of frozen steaks and pork chops. I had a stack of Godiva chocolates and nuts and a bottle of Irish Cream. We felt pretty satisfied, although I had lusted after a pair of pink striped socks (that came with a pink ribbon golf towel, pink Hawkeyes T-shirt and something else). My mother-in-law got the socks et al.
Yesterday morning as we packed to leave her house, she told me she'd 'stolen' the gift for me. So there we stood in her kitchen making the final swap of the Pirate Game--she took the chocolate, nuts and Irish Cream. I got the socks, golf towel, T-shirt and...
But let me explain! Mr. G is a blanket hog and the steals all the blankets out of the basket by the couch and they end up in his bed. I have to go upstairs twice a week to bring down our blankets and throws from his giant bed/nest. He won't touch a pink blanket with a 10-foot pole, so now I'll always have a blanket in the evening when I want to read or watch TV. Pink = untouchable in a house full of boys, so by owning the pink Snuggie I have warmth and comfort whenever I want.
Last night I sat on the couch giving the pink Snuggie a trial run. Mr. G came up to me, wanting to sit on my lap and snuggle. Aha! The Snuggie prevented him getting too cozy because he couldn't figure out how to get under it and still sit on my lap. There he struggled, stymied by the blanket with arms. But the best part? One size of Snuggie fits all--even moms with little boys on their laps.