1. Eggnog or Hot Chocolate? Eggnog, definitely eggnog. My 6-year-old really enjoys it, too, and likes to drink eggnog with her dad. Or she likes to drink her dad’s eggnog … something like that.
2. Does Santa wrap presents or just set them under the tree? Just puts them under the tree. But for some weird reason, he thinks his elves have to assemble it, in the loving room floor at 1 or 2 in the morning so that it is fully assembled when the child wakes up. Annoying little elves.
3. Colored lights on tree/house or white? I used to say white, but that’s all anybody does anymore, so I’m going with colored. But it has to be a solid color like all red or all blue. Multicolored lights are still ugly.
4. Do you hang mistletoe? No!
5. When do you put your decorations up? Whenever we get around to it.
6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)? All of them. I even like green bean casserole. Basically, I like to eat during the holidays and it really doesn’t matter if we are having the traditional turkey and dressing or enchiladas, it’s all good.
7. Favorite Holiday memory as a child? As I have mentioned before in these meme’s I have long since forgotten my childhood. It must have been traumatic.
8. When or how did you learn the truth about Santa? Never believed in Santa. I told you it was traumatic.
9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? Sometimes yes, Sometimes no
10. How do you decorate your Christmas Tree? Let the kid do it. This year it is decorated, but all the ornaments are on one side. But, hey, I didn’t have to do it.
11. Snow! Love it or Dread it? Love it. It makes things more interesting.
12. Can you ice skate? Sure … maybe … I would like to think that I can if I ever tried.
13. Have you ever fallen on the ice? What kind of stupid question is this? Show me someone who hasn’t fallen on the ice and I’ll show you an habitual liar with serious delusions of grandeur.
14. Do you remember your favorite gift? Of course I do. If I didn’t remember it, it wouldn’t be my favorite, now would it?
15. What's the most important thing about the Holidays for you? Family gatherings and time off from work. It’s also pretty cool to see your child’s face light up throughout all the excitement.
16. What is your favorite Holiday Dessert? Pumpkin dessert that my wife makes.
17. What is your favorite holiday tradition? I kind of like the rather new tradition that my family has started, having Christmas on New Year’s. It allows us to visit both families during the holidays and the excitement of opening gifts isn’t blown all in one wad.
18. What tops your tree? An Angel.
19. Which do you prefer giving or receiving? Depends. Generally I really prefer giving gifts, but there are those people that I really don’t like that I’m expected to give gifts too. It’s not that I prefer getting gifts from them. I would really prefer that we do away with all the false pretenses and crap like that and just let people know what we really think of them.
20. What is your favorite Christmas Song? “What Child is This” is pretty cool, and I really love Whiteheart’s version of The Little Drummer Boy. It rocks.
21. CANDY CANES!! YUCK OR YUM?? Yuck. What a waste of candy. Does anybody ever eat the whole thing? Or do you just suck on it until the end of it gets really sharp and pointed and then you try to pierce the top of the empty Cool Whip bowl when your throwing it in the trash.
22. What is your favorite Christmas movie? National Lampoons Christmas Vacation is pretty good, and I like Nightmare Before Christmas. Gremlins and Die Hard provide some moments of entertainment. I really don’t like those sappy, disgusting holiday movies.
23. Rudolph, Frosty the Snowman or Charlie Brown? Charlie Brown. I’m so indifferent to the other two that I can’t even think of anything derogatory to say about them.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Monday, December 04, 2006
It Must be Monday
The day started off like most other days. I woke up.
Then things took a turn for the Monday.
While getting ready for work, my wife comes in and says she needs to leave early. She asks if I can take the child to school. Of course I say sure and begin working on the child to get her all spit polished for her day. While rushing around to put the finishing touches on her, my wife comes in the back door and yells, “I just blew up the garage door opener!”
Our garage door opener has been rather cantankerous lately. We would have to nurse it first thing on a cold morning, working it up and down until if finally opened all the way. We had no such luck today. I ran out to the garage where I was met by a fully smoking door opener. As black smoke billowed out of the motor, I began working on detaching the device so that my wife could get to work. Yes, I know door openers are supposed to have a release button, but if this one does, it is well hidden. I’m guessing it was put in 30 years ago and has finally just worn out. I finally get the arm detached only to find out that the door still won't open because the door hits the arem on the way up. Frustrating.
While working on the door, my child starts laughing.
“Daddy’s got water on his boom-boom.”
Boom-boom, of course, is the descriptor we used for "rear end" when she was really small and it just kind of stuck.
How in the world could I have gotten a wet spot on my rear end? As I was rushing around, dealing with the garage door I had a hunch where the liquid may have originated. Racing into the house to grab my stuff so I can drive my wife to work, I decide to check out my hunch.
Sure enough, I was right. My child had spilled her milk on the living room chair and I had sat in it while brushing her hair. Now, not only was I trying to get my wife to work on time, but I was going to have to return home to wash and dry my pants before I went to work.
We finally decided that I would just drive the family to school in my vehicle. While heading that way, I proceeded to make my daughter cry as I scolded her for not telling anyone that she had spilled her milk. I told her I wasn’t mad for spilling of the the milk, but for not telling anyone and trying to hide it because it was now going to cause me extra time.
After dropping them off at school (my wife is a teacher), I raced back home, disrobed, washed the pants and dried them with the iron, dressed again and headed for the office.
And after all that, I still made it to work on time.
Then things took a turn for the Monday.
While getting ready for work, my wife comes in and says she needs to leave early. She asks if I can take the child to school. Of course I say sure and begin working on the child to get her all spit polished for her day. While rushing around to put the finishing touches on her, my wife comes in the back door and yells, “I just blew up the garage door opener!”
Our garage door opener has been rather cantankerous lately. We would have to nurse it first thing on a cold morning, working it up and down until if finally opened all the way. We had no such luck today. I ran out to the garage where I was met by a fully smoking door opener. As black smoke billowed out of the motor, I began working on detaching the device so that my wife could get to work. Yes, I know door openers are supposed to have a release button, but if this one does, it is well hidden. I’m guessing it was put in 30 years ago and has finally just worn out. I finally get the arm detached only to find out that the door still won't open because the door hits the arem on the way up. Frustrating.
While working on the door, my child starts laughing.
“Daddy’s got water on his boom-boom.”
Boom-boom, of course, is the descriptor we used for "rear end" when she was really small and it just kind of stuck.
How in the world could I have gotten a wet spot on my rear end? As I was rushing around, dealing with the garage door I had a hunch where the liquid may have originated. Racing into the house to grab my stuff so I can drive my wife to work, I decide to check out my hunch.
Sure enough, I was right. My child had spilled her milk on the living room chair and I had sat in it while brushing her hair. Now, not only was I trying to get my wife to work on time, but I was going to have to return home to wash and dry my pants before I went to work.
We finally decided that I would just drive the family to school in my vehicle. While heading that way, I proceeded to make my daughter cry as I scolded her for not telling anyone that she had spilled her milk. I told her I wasn’t mad for spilling of the the milk, but for not telling anyone and trying to hide it because it was now going to cause me extra time.
After dropping them off at school (my wife is a teacher), I raced back home, disrobed, washed the pants and dried them with the iron, dressed again and headed for the office.
And after all that, I still made it to work on time.
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