No One's Hangin' Stocking Up, No One's Giving Gifts

And No One Loves a Christmas Tree on March the 25th (or January 7th).

Though it was fun to go look for one at the beginning of December.
I know, I know. I haven't been posting at all lately. Not a word between Thanksgiving and now. Many of you blame Dad. In fact, some of you have threatened his life. Although Dad may bear the blame for many things, the lack of posting is not his fault. This is what the keyboard on our laptop has looked like for many weeks (and, in fact, still looks like).

Notice the lack of keys. That stems from the mulled wine that I spilled on the keyboard one winter's eve. Mulled wine and laptops do not mix. Dad had to find an alternative way to help me post. Now he has. Let's get caught up.

I discovered the joys of s'ghetti last month.
We cut down our own tree at a tree farm. I like tree hunting:
But the weather here was mild thanks to Global Warming. So I had to find a lighter coat. But, as you can see, I don't like this one:
But I've been a good girl this year, so Mom and Dad told me that I had to tell this strangely dressed fat elf what I wanted for Christmas. I did not like him. Mom though seemed excited to sit on this guy's lap. Shortly after this, Dad challenged Santa to step outside. Dad said that he was upset because he could only see one of Santa's arms.
Finally, Christmas Eve came and found us at Grandma Margie's and Grandpa Dean's house.
They had a smaller Santa to whom I could relate better:
But he told me that, no matter how good a girl I was, I could not get a unicorn for Christmas. So I poked him in the eye.
Mom and Dad said that Santa would come down the chimney. So I found a good seat where I could watch that fat elf burn to a crisp in Grandma's gas burning fireplace.
Mom and Dad said that the tradition would be that I would get to open one present on Christmas Eve. Apparently the tradition requires that I go to bed disappointed. Look what they made me open.
But, no matter how silly they look, my new pajamas kept me warm while visions of sugar plums danced in my head.
While I was sleeping, Santa came down the chimney, narrowly escaping the trap I had set for him because my soft-hearted Grandpa turned off the fireplace. Here's what the elf left for me. We are on better terms now.
Christmas morning is kind of a blur. There are rumors of bloody marys, but no one can confirm them. So, without any narration, here's the best of Christmas morning:
Apparently, I am "spoiled" because I couldn't get all of my presents open before lunch. So we had to take a break and I had to get cleaned up.
But after lunch, I got to conquer more presents
Some of them, though, I couldn't get away from Dad to even see what they were, so I had to move on.
One of my favorite presents was my new red wagon. I bet it can drive over your red wagon.
Jax's favorite present, on the other hand, was a used tennis ball.

So that was December. I'll see you in February unless you all chip in and get Dad a replacement keyboard.