One very merry Christmas

This year was superb. Christmas Eve began with Mr. Wookie insisting I open one gift. He does this sometimes. He makes me open one awesome gift that's necessary for the night. Usually it's a movie that hits the mark. This time, it was something else. He brought his A-game Saturday night.

I was forced to open a wireless remote. Then I was held at gunpoint to open a tripod. Then he forced us to take pictures. Maybe he's loving it that he almost made me cry. But he really does these little things. He claims that when I just ramble on and on about things I want, he's actually listening. Just don't quote him on that. So now I'm the proud owner of a wireless remote. Jealous of those, no longer.

Miss Pooch's first Christmas with us!

This year's gifts were all about necessity. Mr. Wookie was low on underoos, shirts, and a sleeping bag. So I purchased....underoos, shirts, and a sleeping bag. Oh, and a watch - since his last one was left behind at a Hail and Bail barbeque.

Thank you Mommy McD for the book!

Sweet Pea was low on affection.

So we had to torture her.

And after our little family's Christmas unwrapping, there was the need for more group photos showing the destruction of wrapping paper. I may or may not have wrapped boxes within boxes like babuska dolls in order to make the gifts look bigger. It's not about the price tag. It's about being sneaky and awesome, fulfilling those secret desires for a new 20-degree sleeping bag, a swanky new watch that's almost as sexy as a holiday beard, and cute boxers with sock monkeys, remote controls, and Christmas lights. No high-priced televisions, Apple products, or trust funds. Just good ol' fashioned you-need-this gifts.

 

And what's Christmas without an outtake?

Then it was time to webcam with my family located 900 miles North of a 75-degree Christmas. Little Nephew is getting quite talkative and intrigued into standing on and opening any and all presents. Oh the life and times of a 23-month old...who's recognizing his Aunt Ging via webcam.

And from there, it was deemed it necessary for Mr. Wookie to own a weed eater. Because taking scissors to edge a yard is a step above sad. And we don't do sad. Sad only happens when the vodka supply is low. Like I said, we don't do sad. We only do happy.

And now, the house is back to normal. Being a giant hippie, we reused the gift boxes we received to stash our new decorative bounty thanks to Target's 30%-off week-before-Christmas sales. I'd do post-Christmas shopping, but I don't fight crowds. I'm way too lazy.

I can't believe the next time I might see these items may be next year. Do I put up decorations next year? Will I be in the mood? Will I be able to go home? Those answers will have to come next year. Because now I'm enjoying in a house that's not full of dead needles. Although the sweet smell of anticipating is lacking.

There's still my favorite gift to blog about - but it's not here yet thanks to storms in the Midwest. Instead, I got a print out of it. And I'm excited. Mr. Wookie is too kind to me.

I need more cowbell for Mommy McD's birthday.

Today happens to be the dear birthday of a dear blogger who's known me for dear too many years, pooped out some dear adorable children, and moved away to the dear East Coast. Today we celebrate!

There's a reason I "promote" her blog on my sidebar - the bitch is awesome.

And there's a reason I haven't personally sold her to Russian Nationals in order to swipe her children into coming to live with me - because they're much more entertaining when she's around. Plus, she can discipline. I can merely laugh in my head when one brother steals a Gogurt and their superhero cape as an evil villain complete with booming laugh.

You've probably seen this beauty of a picture before. Oh, that's Mrs. Wookie and Mommy McD back in the day. I don't feel like doing math, but Offspring #2 was mere months old (Offspring is going to be 4 - I think - this November). I drove up from my Hometown, Oregon to her Hometown, Oregon (3 hours total - and always worth it) and spent some time with her and 2 of the (now 3) bambinos that exist. Hubband was playing Navy and somewhere important. And nevermind those extra pounds we're rockin'. She just had a bebe (totally legit) and I was drinking myself through long-distance with Mr. Wookie (again, totally legit).

Happy Birthday to my pygmy blogger/partner in cross-country crime! I wish I could be there. But with your birthday comes the butthole-quivering that mine is right there too. And I'd much rather be turning 26 with you than turning 28 on my own (mother-effin' GAG). But I have a bit to sulk before my boobs sag another inch towards oblivion.

Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday and new shoes from Hubband, Happy Birthday to youuuuuuuu! Feel free to comment on the lady's blog that 26 is one of the BEST ages of the 20's and she'll rock out with her...nevermind, again.