Christmas Eve was rather a quiet affair this year. Mid afternoon, while Lisa was at work, I took the kids to my parent’s to exchange gifts and holiday greetings. We got my Dad a fresh pumpkin pie and a pumpkin scented candle, and my Mom a “as seen on TV” pillow for her derriere.
As usual, they (well, they and my sisters combined) went overboard on gifts for the kids; in prior years they've even overshadowed what I give them under the tree.
YaYa got a zebra throw blanket, a Taylor Swift DVD (“Just for You”), a red Taylor Swift t-shirt she wore non-stop for days
Some owl merchandise, Taylor Swift perfume and a DVD of Psych’s Halloween episodes
LuLu got a pair of panda hats, a Snuggie, and a stuffed panda, a peace sign robe, along with some clothes.
Smiley got a Knex building kit, a Star Wars ‘fighter pods’ pack (Darth Vader is red. Smiley was confused, and so was I), and a set of Pokemon cards.
Ginger got a Cocker Spaniel toy, a Cinderella, Fairy Godmother, and Prince Charming doll, and a LaLaLoopsy doll!
Afterwards we picked up Lisa from work and hurried home to prepare a small spread for my in-laws and some friends. While Lisa’s Entourage showed up, not a one of my friends so much as returned an RSVP. Duly noted gentlemen, duly noted.
That was at 7, and by 8 it was winding down. We decided to present the kids with one gift from us, as we do every Christmas Eve. And as on every Christmas Eve, the gift was the same – pajamas. The idea being if you want to open any gifts the next morning, you had best be camera ready in your new duds the minute you wake up.
Apparently Ginger had forgotten this ritual and was expecting far more than pajamas, and had a holy fit. You can see a small bit of that in these photos!
At 10:30 Lisa and I, along with the Entourage and a total of seven children, went to Mass. The kids were great there, and upon our return they headed right for bed.
Before I conclude this Christmas Eve post, I want to mention our ‘Santa Key”, which we (read: Lisa) crafted years ago to explain to YaYa how Santa entered our (then) apartment, seeing as we didn’t have a fireplace. While Lisa was oddly adamant Ginger no longer believed in Santa, she was dead wrong. She believed, and was thrilled when I had her place the key in our mailbox “so Santa can unlock the door” on Christmas. J