Family Bowl

A few years ago, we did away with the Christmas grab between the siblings and the cousins.  Which everybody was happy about.  In its place, my sister and I decided to take our kids bowling.  We did this for a couple of years and added people as we went along.  Last year, The Sis sent out an invite to the whole family.  This Sis with her Cutie Patootie daughter……………..

She found a bowling alley that is all of six lanes and let’s you bring in your own food.  There is a prize for high guy/girl bowler and I took home the sweet trophy I picked up off the curb for being the only chick to break a hunnerd.  Twice.  There was an assortment of door prizes…………mustache of the week, a Virgin Mary bread press, juvenile delinquent mints and a grow your own mermaid to name a few.  There was a prize for 2012 Nuptials that these guys won…………..

And the Hofmeister Ham Brother brought Me Scotty Snowman back to pass to the next family who is obligated to post pictures of his adventures throughout this year.

Like the previous year, a good time was had by all.  If you are stuck in the exchanging dollars gift route, I recommend A Bowlathon.  Besides counting the pins you knocked down, you’ll be counting your blessings, and if there’s no outstanding warrants, you can take a big, ol’ group pic and post it wherever you want.

On The Advice of Counsel

The Big Daddy works with a guy named Joe.  He lent his car to The BD recently when he had to go to a meeting and couldn’t get there by way of bike.  When I protested this plan, Joe told him to tell me to chillax, and if I had a problem with it to write about it on my blog.  I think I just did.

Anyhow, at the Annual Christmas Party, Joe told me he knows exactly what this blog needs to up the daily hits and make me a contender in the Big Bad Blog World.

Nudity.

Geez, that Joe has come to the the rescue of me and The Big Daddy a lot lately.  It’s like he’s a Superhero.  Or something.

Clean Up Clean Up

When my parents put up the Christmas decorations, oh me oh my, we’d all hightail it out of The Homestead.  It was STEEEEEEEEEEEEEEressful.  When I got older, I’d work the whole dang day just to have a good excuse not to be around for the disagreements and general crabbiness.

I am not like that.  I am calm.

Until it is time to put away the decorations.  Not only do I put them away, I organize them, organize the house, clean the house, and get my decorating mojo into gear.  I want to redo the whole place, and if The Big Daddy would just leave for a spell, I’d get in the car and go buy new furniture to surprise him.  I surround myself with chaos and don’t know what the hell I’m doing.  If you ask to help me I say that’s o.k. I’m not sure what I’ve got going here.  Then when you walk away I talk about how frickin lazy you are behind your back, and your back may have not left the room.  Oh, I’m a post-holiday delight for sure.

This is some of Christmas puked up on the dining room table.  The basement?  Oh my God.  Even worse.  It took me the whole day to get it together and when I was done The Teacher Girl stopped by and walked through the spotlessly clean house with dog crap on her shoe. 

Next year?   Old people Christmas.  Puny tree on a table in the front window that smells like moth balls, and I’m pretty sure I’m o.k. with that.