Snarkastic

In Excelsis Crunk

Holiday Highlight Reel:

• Knocking out all my Christmas shopping (and the shopping of most everyone I know) here and here.
• When Joan and I opened our presents from my mother, and found B&BW lotion, edible lip gloss, and these. We think she may know us better than we suspected.
• The song "All I Want for Christmas is to Get Crunk", a little slice of filthy genius to ghetto up your holiday season.
• This. Not so much caring about the Seinfeld nonsense, but I'd pay good money to see the Zoroastrian display.
• Not having to decorate the Christmas tree. I had to do it by myself the last few years, and if you've ever seen my mother's armada of ornaments you know this is no small feat. Putting off coming home till the 22nd got me out of this one. Downside: my baby ornament, to which I have an irrational attachment, got lost in the whirlwind and never made it onto the tree. Hope I find it.
• Going to all the trouble of being sneaky about spiking my eggnog while cooking, only to have my father walk up, take a sip, and start dancing around the kitchen to 'out' me to my mother. Magnificent bastard.
• The satisfaction of running into my ex's mother, whom I adore, in the grocery store, and in the course of the conversation, having her lean in and whisper to me, "You know, I don't much care for his new girlfriend", augmented by the fact that said girlfriend is, in fact, a Heinous Wretch.
• We always open one present on Christmas Eve, with what I think is an unnecessary amount of pagenatry, since mine is always pajamas. This time I got a red top and blue pants with these mod little stars all over them, and I would not bet against me wearing them for the next week.
• Having five kids in the house under the age of five, including two newborns, has turned out to be an unexpected bonus. No one yells at you when there's an infant balanced on your hip. "I'm sorry, Auntie, I can't listen to you criticize me right now. Ssssshhhh....you'll wake the baby." Bitchin'.
• Two perfectly clear and cold nights in a row, with a brilliant moon and the wind blowing hard enough to stir all the chimes on the back porch.

Holiday Lowlight Reel:

• Yeah, so my mom may've wanted to name me Emily so my initials would be ERA, but come Christmas Eve I better have my pearls around my neck and my sweet ass in the kitchen, is all I'm sayin'.
• The accents of my extended family. I thought my baby cousin Riley was named Rowley for close to a year.
• The perennial ridiculosity of my mother refusing to put presents under the tree to everyone can see her beautiful wrapping skills on rightful display.
• Having a fight with my brother that reduced me to remarking, "Yeah, so how's flunking out of state school working out for you?" (He so started it.)
• The song "We Wish You a Merry Christmas". What carols absolutely dance the tarantella on your last goddamned nerve? "Little Drummer Boy" was another one until Sorkin got hold of it.

Overheard in the last 24 hours within these walls:

• "My computer isn't as cuddly as a cat, but it sure keeps my lap warm like one."
• Mike: "I've got bulimic Alzheimer's. I binge and forget to purge."
• "Dominic, who's that?"
  "That's my new toy, Baby Get Off Me." (while pointing at his new baby sister)
• "I wanna be a Powerpuff Girl." (Uttered by my four-year-old cousin, to the abject horror of his father and grandfather.)
• "Oh, Erin, I love the baby's dress!"
  "Yeah, I don't think it's that comfortable for her, but she's gotta learn sometime."
• "Josh, get a haircut."
  "Debbie, do you think I need a haircut?"
  "No, honey, you could model in one of those women's magazines."
  "I need a haircut."
  "Seriously. You look like Mom from the back."
• Mike on babies: "The first one gets held like this," (holds baby gingerly), "the second one gets held like this," (perches baby on hip), "and the third one gets held like this" (holds baby by neck).
• "I want to go home."
  "You are home."
  "Well, I want to go back to school."
  "Holly, it's Christmas."
  "Exactly."

Things have settled down for the afternoon. Dad's at the golf course; Mom's in the bath; Josh has taken over the living room with his boarding gear and Bruckheimer movies, and I'm in the den, juggling my gadgetry and watching football and yelling at him to turn down the suck, please. (Actually, he got me Arrested Development on DVD, so I've got to play nice for a week or so.) Life Aquatic with the crew tonight, then off to Snowshoe and Silvercreek for a few days. I'll be back just in time for NYEE, and y'all will be in my thoughts with every wrenched joint, bruised limb, and sucking chest wound I'm about to incur.

And because it wouldn't be the holidays without the imminent threat of death at the hands of an evil clown...I've gotten four hits from Derry, New Hampshire. 'Fess up.

[edit, 14:23: My dad just walked in with my baby ornament. Merry Christmas, forserious.]

Other troops looked on with puzzlement when candy canes were tossed at their feet with shouts of "incoming!"

Posted by Nastinchka at December 25, 2004 01:42 PM