, , , , ,

Christmas is barreling down on me and I did get some things done today.  I cleaned the refrigerator in a way that I never have—I probably could have convinced my husband that I went out and bought a new one and had it delivered all in the same day—it’s that clean, but it took a while.  Then Pierce and I went off to the grocery store and spent a million dollars.  When we got home, he slept in the car while I unloaded, put everything away, and then we left to get Mikey at school.  Randy Bill was hanging out near the fence in the pasture, so we antagonized him for a while, took a movie, pet one of the horses and came home.  Once we were back home, I took on the task which should have been fun, of baking Christmas cookies.  Don’t think too much of me, though—they were store-bought tubes of cookie dough that I added a little almond extract to, and frosted when they were cooled.

I tried to relax in the back yard after I cleaned up the kitchen, but …well…you know how that goes with two little boys sharing your space.  Finally, I gave up and got off my bum to sweep and hose down the back patio, only to ultimately return to my clean kitchen and mess it up by preparing the lasagna ahead of time for Christmas Day, then dinner for all of us, then the men in the white coats finally showed up to whisk me away to some place clean and quiet.  Unfortunately my insurance sucks, so I’m back at home right now, trying to think while both the boys and our friend Glen are creating a cacophony of uninspired and totally tuneless guitar something or another—I can’t call it music—while they all jam on three child-size guitars.  Everyone is just strumming as hard as they can, but no-one knows a single chord.  If I kill them all, will the men in white coats come back?