thanksgiving eve

Okay, the dog hair is quite under control, though the dog is here now beside me, probably shedding like a mad fiend. I hate to even mention this, since we're okay now, but there are times when her butt smells shockingly terrible. There aren't adequate adjectives for the shocking terribleness of the smell. We're spared that anyway, so this is good.

The table is set, 24 places, takes up the whole living room and dining room, but we didn’t have to add any branches going into the family room this year.

Heidi has pronounced the flowers inadequate and will be bringing more tomorrow. Evidently there are three accent flowers and five vases. ??? If she's got a plan, I defer.

Our bed is so covered in miscellaneous crap gathered up from the rest of the house in a neatening effort that I cannot lie down. There are socks here I do not recognize. Junk mail I've never seen before. Why is it on my bed?

Jay is plucking at the pile of overdue library books on his side of the bed now.

Below is an actual Christmas list handed to me by an actual child:

Cat
Bag of spaghetti
Cell phone
Canary
Cotton candy machine
A clown that can teach me how to juggle
A peach
Crazy socks (x2)
Gassy Gus card game
Star wars dual action light saber
Popcorn machine ($149)
Glow dome
Wow Wee interactive cub
Mario Kart radio control terrain titans micro

She is as quirky a person as her list would indicate. I mean, why just two pair of crazy socks as opposed to one pair or three or ten? We don’t know. She was questioned intensely regarding her need for a light saber, and she defended her position. “It makes noises. I can hit people with it.” They mentioned this is a no-hitting house.

She laughed.

Oh my gosh, I love her.


The older kids did mention to her that she doesn’t have to put a peach on her Christmas list. She could just write “peach” on the grocery list and I would buy it. Same with “bag of spaghetti.” (Like who wants that in a Christmas stocking? It sounds really messy.)

Time for bed, I think. Happy Thanksgiving. Love, Val