Secret

Everyone toots in their sleep.

Some just don't have anyone around to tell them.




I do not feel sorry for those people.


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Truth

I wished merry greetings on the drive-thru cashier at Taco Bell.

She responded in silence.

Chris reminded me that Taco Bell isn't the place you go for hospitality.

I don't think a burrito and "good day to you m'lady" is too much to ask, do you?

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In the Navy

After watching a bio on John Lennon, dad was singing:

"all we are saying, is give peace a chance..."

Dad: we used to sing that as protest while in the Navy. After a few beers. In a stolen van.

Me: You stole a van?

Dad: we just borrowed it. From the U.S. Navy.

Me: ...

Dad: in all fairness, I didn't know it was stolen.


- Posted from my awesome iPhone

Of no importance

Santa's satchel couldn't handle this much awesome, so he came by early to drop this off in Chris' stocking.





Some things just can't wait until Christmas to be opened.


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Moon River

If there's any other topic besides animal rescue, terminally ill children, and widowed old men that can turn me into a heaping pile of snot and tears, it's talking about my dad.

Even though my precious father is still very much alive, there have been one too many instances where I feared that wouldn't be the case.

His poor ticker has been an issue since I was in Elementary and his ER visits are innumerable. I couldn't imagine the feeling of defeat a person like my dad experiences each time he's rushed to the hospital for an "episode." Still, he's resilient.

When I was but a wee tot, he would rock my fussy self to sleep by singing "Moon River."
(If you've ever seen Breakfast at Tiffany, then you may be familiar with the tune).
It's been woven throughout my stories so many times that I proclaim it my favorite and a sentimental part of the bond my dad and I share.

It was, after all, what we danced to at our wedding.

Last night, while gathering goodies for our work Christmas party, I was shamelessly enthralled with Kate and Leopold; although, I was more enthralled with the latter.

During a scene of sweet embrace between Kate and 'Pold, an instrumental version of "Moon River" began to play when my phone rang.

It was my dad.

Dad: "I was just watching a movie and heard Moon River. Thought of my (sweet) daughter."

Me: "dad, are you watching Kate and Leopold?"

Dad: "...I am."

I laughed.

Then I heard my dad clear his throat to avoid getting any more emotional, got the pre-cry throat lump myself, and had to hurry off the phone.

That man is special.




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Cheers

Evelynn and Eleanor wish you their best during this holiday season.



They LOVED this. Trust me.







Ho




My little Owlie friend is all dressed up and nowhere to go.


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Birth.

"on this day in history (according to Wikipedia)..."

1869: Jesse James commits first confirmed bank robbery in Gallatin, MO.

1941: The Imperial Japanese Navy attacks U.S. Naval Air Base in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii.

1972: the Apollo 17 moon mission is launched.

1982: Chris McPeters is birthed from his mother's wombsack.

My dearest husband (of all the others, he's the dearest) turned a bit older today, and nary a bit wiser.

I kid.

I've been giving him a hard time for being old when really, he's not. That doesn't mean it's any less fun to tease him.

For instance:

Chris is so old, his birth certificate says EXPIRED.

Chris is so old, he went to the antique shop and they kept him.

Chris is SO OLD, he sat behind Jesus in third grade.

thank you, Yo Mama app, for your material

With all that nonsense said...






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On the first...

I'm not sure what it means to wake up enormously late for work, have your cat pee on the Christmas tree skirt, and say goodbye to your husband for three weeks on the first day of December, but surely it isn't a sign of what's to come for the remaining 30 days.

Let's not forget I fudged (charred) last night's crock pot meal, which was meant to be Chris' "going away/birthday dinner," but my bang-up job on eggnog pudding cake was the silver-lining and saved me from a whiny 'I'm a terrible cook' rampage.

FYI: Adding two hours to the suggested cook time is unnecessary and will force you to mosey on over to that neighborhood burger joint you've been meaning to try.

But alas, these instances are trivial and having cozy Christmas tunes in my ear make me realize just that.

I mean, who in here HASN'T completely ruined dinner or yelled "$#!T" as they ran out the door with dirty hair and unbuttoned pants?

And although he won't be here to put the final trimmings on the tree, or help me wrap gifts, Chris will be home for Christmas. There are those that will have to be without their other during the holidays and, as my niece says, that makes my feelings sad.

Perspective.

Christmastime makes my feelings happy. It's not so much the actual day, but the anticipation of it all. The baking, decorating, the coffees flavored with holiday goodness. It's the Home Alone, Home Alone 2 (Lost in New York), Elf, and White Christmas. It's being nestled between your mum and dad on a pew, holding a candle, singing an instrument-less Silent Night.

Chills.

While many of those reasons may be superficial when relating to the beautiful point and reason for Christmas, dear friends and family, my fondest memories won't be of the gifts I gave or received, but my time spent with you.

I sound cliché.

But that's okay, you'll forgive me because it's the most wonderful time of the year. In order to have a holly jolly Christmas, it isn't necessary to deck the halls, but to wish peace on the earth and goodwill to men. Without that, you'll be scrooged.



Owlie Santa says Hoo, Hoo, Hoo


- Posted from my awesome iPhone