We made it through Thanksgiving! The high point being when I had to explain to my very full dining room that Joe was trying to put salt on Lexi because he had decided she was a slug, and, that's how you kill slugs. Something we had only discovered the evening before, when she started yelling at him for shaking salt in her hair while she sat at the kitchen table. Honestly, I am not sure if it was that I actually found it that funny, or, if I was really over tired, but, I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe during the telling of it.
You know. Warm holiday memories and stuff. Why wouldn't Joe be throwing salt at his sister?
While family arrived, my sister was watching "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation" on TV. The similarities to the Griswold Family and the Dick Family were remarked upon. "Yeah. You'll notice that the house next door is up for sale again. This will make the forth time it's been for sale since we've lived here... Honestly, I think we bypassed the Griswolds, and are more along the lines of the Brother in Law..."
The neighbor's house actually sold the other day, so, within the next few months, a new family will be moving in. I suppose they will figure the craziness out eventually. And, either join us or hate us. These things could go either way.
Oh, let's see. With Christmas right around the corner, there has been some Christmas related activiy or other every single day since last Saturday so far. The other day, it was "National Cookie Day", and I had to stop at the store on my way home anyhow, so, I grabbed two trays of cookies for the kids, "just because". I did not realize that one entire tray was full of nothing but coffee flavored cookies. I didn't even know that was a "thing". Long story short: maybe cookies made primarily with coffee is not the best thing to give your kids only hours before bedtime. Or, anytime, really.
Speaking of cookies, this approaching weekend is the yearly "Sugar Cookie Day" at my house. Which is what everyone excitedly calls it. My nephew wrote a paper about it for school. I tend to think of it as "The Day my House gets Trashed, My Feet Hurt, and, the Beginning of the Two Months it will Take to Clean all the Sprinkles" Honestly this tradition started before we even had kids, and my sister would come over to my first appartment and we would make cookies right before Thanksgiving every year. It's lasted 20 years now, and, we've only missed a few years! I have already informed my kids that I fully expect to kidnap my Grandchildren for this some day.
I am taking a vacation. Seriously. Eleven whole days of not going to work. I almost didn't. I actually thought about just canceling my time off request, and saving the time off for emergencies. But, the thought occured to me - I haven't had any real break since I started my current position over four years ago. (The yearly trip to Black Lake does not count. That is NOT a break, and, as I told Bearded Man the other night, I actively dislike him by the end of Black Lake week every year.)
Anyhow, I think burn out is pretty much settled in. So, I am taking the eleven days off, and I plan to spend as many of them at home, not leaving the house, as possible. I cannot wait.
With the Christmas season, come Christmas lists. "George, have you made your list for Santa yet?" I asked the other day.
"It's secret."
"What do you mean, it's secret? What are you asking Santa for this year?"
"It's secret! I am not telling anybody."
I eventually happened upon him studiously writing a list. It consisted of:
- A Four Wheeler
- Pokemon cards
- Beer cans
- Venison jerkey
Bearded Man and I did some shopping last weekend. There was no beer or four wheelers bought, just so we are all clear on that.
Bearded Man also had his first foray into Sephora. For someone in his line of work, who deals with all things gross all day, I was slightly shocked at his reaction to the chemical and overpowering heady scents that made breathing difficult, emitting from Sephora. Gasping, he stood at the check out, while I nicely informed him that our all about make up kid, Kaila, cannot wait until she turns 17, and is able to work there. He couldn't get out of that store fast enough. There were several comments about the clear lack of safety, working in such a terrible place. I figured he had pretty much hit his breaking point by then, and we went home shortly after the trauma of Sephora.
Oh, what else. Sunday School continues. I have a few students who pretty much do not want to be there, and, make life as miserable as possible for the entire class. I find that I dread Sunday School, and, I don't believe any learning or any good has come from it at all this year. It is mostly spent trying to get a select few to behave. One in particular. I suppose there is the chance that he will grow up to become a priest, but, the odds aren't terribly good so far. Ah well. My entire class moves up next year. Maybe there's hope for the next class. I suspect this will all come back to haunt me on judgement day. "Ummm, Moriah, is it?" "Yes, St. Peter" "And, did you really threaten to beat one of your Sunday School kids with his own hockey stick if he didn't knock it off immedietly?" "Well, in my defense, there was no actual hockey stick present, sir." Will be my last words before the button is pushed, and I am sliding straight into hell.
Ah well. That's pretty much all the excitement for now. If I don't knock out another one of these things before Christmas, hopefully everyone has a great whatever they celebrate!
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