'Tis the reason to be tired of the season...falalalala, lalala, hack.
If you've got little kids you know that Christmastime is as much about throwing parties as it is about throwing up, and as much about gifts as it is about greed. In our humble home it's an annual xmas tradition that anywhere between one and three boys will toss their gingerbread cookies, develop Croup or break out in some other rarely experienced and unpleasantly named childhood infection.
"I'll take my hot cocoa with a side of Hand, Foot and Mouth Disease, Mum!"
It's also the time of year when my little angels utter the words "me", "mine" and "gimme" once every 6-seconds...even as we're dropping off a bunch of blankets to the SPCA in an attempt to teach the holiday virtues of giving and charity. As they frantically shred the bag I've packed the canine delivery in at the back of the van, I can hear 30 little fingers grabbing at the donation, "Gimme....that's mine...I'm giving it to the dog with 3 legs and the glass eye...let go....mine, mine, mine!!!!"
Real-time update: Noah (aka Needy), in an act of eager, overzealous excitement, has just thrown up- that's a whole 13 days early!! Way to go, son!! But please save some of that bitter, watery gunk for xmas! It just wouldn't be the same without it!
The season also brings questions- questions about Santa. But in our house, it isn't questions about the big guy's existence, or how those wacky reindeer actually fly, or why Santa at the mall smells like gin... No, the #1 question I get asked every Christmas is, "Mum, why doesn't Santa ever bring me anything I ask for?" To which I reply, in my sweetest I'm-from-a-1940's-Christmas-classic-movie voice, "Because little munchkin, Santa knows that there isn't a chance in sweet hell that an eight-year old needs an iPhone 4...and besides dear, the only phone number you know, is your own!"
Ahhh....breath it in. Can you smell it? It's Christmas my friends... Oh no, sorry, that's Noah....forgot to wash the vomit from his hair. Gotta run....
Merry Christmas everyone!!
If you've got little kids you know that Christmastime is as much about throwing parties as it is about throwing up, and as much about gifts as it is about greed. In our humble home it's an annual xmas tradition that anywhere between one and three boys will toss their gingerbread cookies, develop Croup or break out in some other rarely experienced and unpleasantly named childhood infection.
"I'll take my hot cocoa with a side of Hand, Foot and Mouth Disease, Mum!"
It's also the time of year when my little angels utter the words "me", "mine" and "gimme" once every 6-seconds...even as we're dropping off a bunch of blankets to the SPCA in an attempt to teach the holiday virtues of giving and charity. As they frantically shred the bag I've packed the canine delivery in at the back of the van, I can hear 30 little fingers grabbing at the donation, "Gimme....that's mine...I'm giving it to the dog with 3 legs and the glass eye...let go....mine, mine, mine!!!!"
Real-time update: Noah (aka Needy), in an act of eager, overzealous excitement, has just thrown up- that's a whole 13 days early!! Way to go, son!! But please save some of that bitter, watery gunk for xmas! It just wouldn't be the same without it!
The season also brings questions- questions about Santa. But in our house, it isn't questions about the big guy's existence, or how those wacky reindeer actually fly, or why Santa at the mall smells like gin... No, the #1 question I get asked every Christmas is, "Mum, why doesn't Santa ever bring me anything I ask for?" To which I reply, in my sweetest I'm-from-a-1940's-Christmas-classic-movie voice, "Because little munchkin, Santa knows that there isn't a chance in sweet hell that an eight-year old needs an iPhone 4...and besides dear, the only phone number you know, is your own!"
Ahhh....breath it in. Can you smell it? It's Christmas my friends... Oh no, sorry, that's Noah....forgot to wash the vomit from his hair. Gotta run....
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