Well Christmas Eve is finally here and now that I can finally escape work, I'm enjoying my morning by......getting up at 7am to go visit the great grandparents for Christmas Eve breakfast....an hour away.
Yes, we have great grandparents still. Due to previous generations of women in our family popping out gremlins at 17 and our affinity to live to be 100 years old, we get together with a lot of deaf, crotchety relatives for the holidays.
I'm bitter for two reasons: I had to miss my friend Mia's tacky sweater party last night (complete with heated pool) and I was forced to get out of my pajamas before 4pm. Oh, and I'm not big on breakfast. I eat cereal because I'm hungry, but a mouthful of sausage in the morning isn't my favorite wake up call. Ba doom chhh. But really, I'm fine with toast and coffee.
If not for my dad, I assure you my brother and sister would not be in the car this morning, despite mom's guilt trip that "this might be their last Christmas." The GGPs, not the sibs. The good news is, it's actually my great grandpa and his second wife, who's grand daughter M is going through a nasty divorce with soon to be ex-husband A that involves affairs, hidden Arabian horses, and approximately $140 million of net worth. I'm hoping maybe she'll blow her nose with a Ben Franklin that I can dig out of the trash. My Papa also has a tendency to fart with every step he takes but bot acknowledge it. We still aren't sure if he thinks they are silent or just simply feels it appropriate to blow a gasket wherever and whenever he pleases.
The fam is actually engaging is conversation this morning. Although I just pointed out that someone farted and everyone dodged it and quit talking. To make matters worse, I was child locked and couldn't get the window down. Mom saved us by rolling down hers, and brother was blamed because he was sleeping. And before you go all "smelt it dealt it" on me, you should know I only fart in public when i'm outside and the wind can carry it away. Just a little something to remember me by....
In other news, I had a dream last night that my family went to a football game, I got wasted, we went to a buffet where my grandpa got chicken fried steak, I got left for being "too drunk" and was kidnapped by a gang in the train station and had to return a stroller for their baby to the stroller station before I could board my train, which I then missed, so I ran home and then went to the bar with my friends.
I woke up in a panic because of how real this seemed until I came to my senses and realized I would have never taken the time to return a stroller. (bingo. I'm the asshole that leaves shopping carts in the parking lot when the little corral isn't close enough.)
Oh, and my family wouldn't leave me. They would take me home and tell me to sleep it off, then we would discuss how I "need to find my off button when I've had enough" over a couple bottles of wine. Cuz they'd rather ne do it in the house.
In other, other news, I made 6 gingerbread men out of a box that suggested 1-2 1/2 dozen depending on size, Little brudder built a new (and quite snazzy) beer pong table, Sister and boyfriend went to best buy solely to play rockband, and mom made 2 trips to the grocery store and bought food for the small army in our basement. Dad did as he was told and made fajitas.
Tonight's agenda: wine and church, in that order. AND opening 1 present. Which is exciting because if it's not booze or peanut butter, I ain't been buyin it.
So Happy Birthday Jesus, thanks for the 2 days off work and that eternal salvation thing--love ya, mean it!
Merry Christmas Eve, y'all!
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