I can tell Christmas is coming because we're out of milk, eggs, and butter, but our freezer is overflowing with delicacies like apple strudel, Omaha steaks, gourmet chocolate, exotic shellfish, and puff pastry; also, the liquor cabinet is so well stocked that it actually takes up a whole cabinet for a change. I haven't done dishes in a week, but that's okay because I've only eaten at home once. There was an office party, a cookie exchange, a brunch, a luncheon, another brunch, another office party, and a baby shower, of all things. I've been so busy that I had to borrow a roll of toilet paper because I haven't had time to go shopping for ANYTHING. It appears that, in an effort to spread the Christmas rush out over the whole month, everything has been pushed up to the first week of December. Come next week, I'll be sitting at home reorganizing my wrapping paper drawer.
This year, for the first time, The Roc seems to understand the true meaning of Christmas: candy canes, presents, lights, ornaments, stockings, Christmas trees, carols, eggnog, Santa Claus, and Baby Jesus. However, he pronounces it "eggnob," and he is under the impression that Baby Jesus is a girl.
He also thinks our Christmas tree came from Old Macdonald's farm. In fact, the Christmas tree came from Home Depot, which shares its parking lot with a . . . McDonald's.
Two-year-olds are naturally chock-full of the Christmas spirit. The Roc gave Santa one of his trademark Big Hugs after getting his picture taken with him, and burst into spontaneous applause the first time he saw our house decorated with colorful Christmas lights. When Santa asked The Roc what he wanted for Christmas, he replied: "A lollipop." The Roc is getting a toddler-sized toy kitchen, a PlasmaCar, and a Tonka truck so big he can ride it, but none of it is going to make him happier than a lollipop. Except maybe that toy weed whacker.
This year, for the first time, The Roc seems to understand the true meaning of Christmas: candy canes, presents, lights, ornaments, stockings, Christmas trees, carols, eggnog, Santa Claus, and Baby Jesus. However, he pronounces it "eggnob," and he is under the impression that Baby Jesus is a girl.
He also thinks our Christmas tree came from Old Macdonald's farm. In fact, the Christmas tree came from Home Depot, which shares its parking lot with a . . . McDonald's.
Two-year-olds are naturally chock-full of the Christmas spirit. The Roc gave Santa one of his trademark Big Hugs after getting his picture taken with him, and burst into spontaneous applause the first time he saw our house decorated with colorful Christmas lights. When Santa asked The Roc what he wanted for Christmas, he replied: "A lollipop." The Roc is getting a toddler-sized toy kitchen, a PlasmaCar, and a Tonka truck so big he can ride it, but none of it is going to make him happier than a lollipop. Except maybe that toy weed whacker.
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