Greetings from the Motherland

As usual, our Christmas was comically chaotic. We threw our stellar Christmas Eve party, had a grand time the next day opening the presents but even more entertaining was watching the kids. Haddie got everything Dora and Bode was so entranced by it all, especially all the tissue paper and bows he received for Christmas. Yep, we’re just that generous.

I love everything about Christmas except the huge meal. Call me crazy but I’d rather spend time playing games, watching movies and just hanging out vs. barking at each other in the kitchen. Because I so love spending my holiday stressing about cooking and then cleaning up all freakin’ day. Call me an anti-traditionalist. But here are some highlights:

How You Know You’re in Canada for Christmas:

“Jane, that’s a pretty huge tree. How tall is it?”
“About 12 feet.”
“How’d you get the ornaments up so high?”
“We used a hockey stick. But I got mad at your brother Pat when he put the porcelain angel on top and in his attempts to get her to stay, he started high sticking her face.”

How You Know Dogs Rule the Roost:

Would you eat these tasty goodies that were left on our table?

Yeah, me too. Turns out, this deceptive little package was in actuality dog treats. And they didn’t taste nearly as good as they look (I found that out the hard way). As I’m usually the butt of all the jokes, this blunder was no exception. I thought all was forgotten until we were opening gifts and I was surprised to receive a gift bag from Jane’s snarky shitzu.

“Oh, I feel so badly for all those horrible things I’ve said about Rosie over the years!”

But then I opened it.

My brother Jade had retrieved the dog treats in all their glory, wrapped them up and regifted them to me. Can you say D-O-G-H-O-U-S-E???????!!!

How You Know Hemeroids can be a Beautiful Thing:

After dinner, my Aunt Sue gave Jamie and my mom some electrical shock therapy to help with their individual ailments. Because what would Christmas dinner be without torture tactics? I thought the highlight was when Aunt Sue accidentally jolted Mom with about 100 volts and her eyeballs bugged out of her head. But I was wrong.

The real highlight was our discussion that followed on Preparation H. Don’t ask what the connection was; there doesn’t need to be one in my family.

Me: Did you know body builders put Preparation H on their abs before a competition? It pulls moisture out of the skin and shows greater muscle definition.

Jane: Beauty pageant contestants do the same to eliminate wrinkles under their eyes.

As we discussed the ramifications of Preparation H for aesthetic purposes, there was a lull in the conversation before my brother Pat acerbically announced:

“I think I’ll just keep using it on my butt, thank you.”

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