The most fun part of Christmas day is when you take one last, appreciative look at the pile of presents under the tree, having already identified gift tags and the number of gifts meant for you.  Every year I write about my little childhood friend who used to meticulously unwrap all of  her gifts during the week prior to Christmas, and with greater care, re-wrap them and place them in exactly the same positions.  What she didn’t know was that she needn’t have worried about getting caught...her mother had such a drinking problem that she didn’t know WHAT Christmas was anymore, much less, when it was.  And, her father was busy doing other things with other women.  She could have taken the credit card and bought a LOT more stuff for herself, wrapped it, tagged it from Santa and taken delicious revenge for her parentless childhood.  At least, that’s what I would have done.  Hindsight and all that, right?

So,the Ancient One had a lovely Christmas morning.  Surely this will be her last one, I mean, this may be her last Christmas, bless her heart.  She had a Mimosa, opened her presents, squealed with laughter, oohed and ahh’ed at what she had given us and then, like Santa, she slept all afternoon.  We tried to make her get in the car with us in the evening to drive through the neighborhoods looking at Christmas lights. She thought of every single excuse she could to get out of it, so we acquiesced and stayed toasty warm at home.  You can take a horse to water, but you can’t make her drink. 

We’re pretty ready for this year to be over, but that’s another multi-layered blog coming up on Jan. 1.  We enjoyed all the texture and whatnot, but let’s move on, shall we?  Every day that trips around the sun finds us happy to be on the planet, with a pish posh, my GOSH every time we look in the mirror at these middle-aged faces.  I’ve decided to just giggle at and love every new wrinkle, droop, sag and fold. Look at Santa, for God’s sake.  He’s morbidly obese and hasn’t shaved in hundreds of years.  Things could be so much worse.  I could be Dexter’s next victim.  I’m grateful beyond measure.

Carrying on regardless,

KK

******************************************

Yeah, it’s so sad that Christmas is over.  I think the Ancient One had a good time even though I doubt that visions of sugar plums danced in her head during her afternoon nap.  Probably more like visions of Eggos, Oreos, and bacon.  Those are her favorite things, and in her mind, tantamount to our own affinity for martinis, foie gras, and Columbian, and I’m not talkin’ coffee.

I got an herb preserver from KK, who knows me very well.  You have to really understand someone to know that a plastic, air and water container for basil, thyme, and other herbs, would make that person think their Christmas was complete.   KK also gave me a package of colored rubber bands in the shapes of animals.  That was weird, but then, that’s KK.  I gave her a plastic cat-laser toy, so we’re even.

I gave the Ancient One a pair of socks that look like purple high-top tennis shoes.  She was amused but I was serious.  Anything to cover up that second toe that folds over her big toe and looks like a gargoyle talon.  I also gave her a box for her false teeth that I painted at the paint-your-own ceramic store.  I painted a pair of false teeth and some Polident bubbles on the lid.  It looked pretty good and mother allowed as how it came off very professionally done.

So, anyway, a good time was had by all.  We enjoyed our Eggs Benedict, champagne, and viewing of Scream II.  I had to take a nap too, and dreamed of buying cigar boxes full of bugs that escaped and started crawling across the living room.

Life returns to normal.  Happy New Year!

SalGal

http://www.themidlifegals.com