A Lit Christmas

This month is speeding by (hello, all those Christmas presents I haven't bought yet!), so I thought I'd just slap some pictures up here, with brief descriptions of what I've been doing, and then I looked at the photos on my phone and, uh, I haven't even taken any in the past week. Things are THAT hectic.

First off, there are 4 of my offspring living here, which means I'm expected to cook again. I've been churning out the chicken salad, the mashed potatoes, the beef stew, and I don't know what all. I ran the dishwasher THREE TIMES on Sunday (Theo came to dinner). How did I do this all those years when the kids were younger? Beats me.

Brian is home now, so I had to spend some time cleaning up my yarn studio so he would have a place to sleep. David arrives tomorrow, which means Susie and I need to turn the couch downstairs into a bed, since Anna has claimed the guest room until the 31st. Thank goodness Theo has his own place now and doesn't need a bed.

A bit of holiday baking has been happening - lemon bars, pizzelles - but you wouldn't know it, because we ate all of them. I mean, except for a few pizzelles that aren't long for this world:

These will be gone by noon tomorrow

I don't get how people bake batches of Christmas cookies and the cookies are all still around for Christmas. Could someone enlighten me on that one? I grew up Jewish, and we didn't save cookies. Actually, we didn't bake, come to think of it. Why bake, when an Entenmann's outlet is only a couple of miles away?

I've been to 2 parties already. The first one was full of couples just like me and Larry, who only get to go out in December, so we all had a lot of catching up to do. The second was the annual ornament exchange at my friend's house. I ended up with a very nice set of chopsticks, which - if you think about it - is the perfect thing for a Jewish person to get at a Christmas ornament exchange. If you don't understand why, ask someone of the Hebrew persuasion.

Perfect for Chinese take-out on Christmas Eve

I've also spent every spare minute informing every single person I know that I have a job, starting in January. I need to keep repeating it, because I don't really believe it myself.

I have a job.

Larry was happy for me, until he realized that I am using "I have a job" as an excuse to spend money this month like a drunken sailor. Maybe his epiphany came when Susie and I brought home a light-up deer for our front yard. Or maybe it was this purchase of mine from Aldi's:

When you're rich, they let you buy yard ornaments

"Hey," Larry said the other day, studiously ignoring the Knitcrate box that had just arrived on our doorstep, "we need to figure out how much of your paycheck is going into a 401K. And don't forget, we'll need to buy a car in a few years."

You know, I'm beginning to suspect Larry doesn't want me to spend my entire paycheck on yarn and eating out. I mean, he's all retirement this and transportation that. It's as if he doesn't even CARE about my Nando's fetish, people. What can you do with a man like that?