Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Bar Hopping

So, the big question is: did Santa bring Eve purple?

Sure. But he was very uncreative and brought her a purple skirt. So, yeah, sorry for that anti-climax, but he just couldn't figure out what the heck purple was. Doesn't seem to matter too much since her prize present has been the new Pinkalicious dress. Go figure.

Let's see, Christmas Eve is turkey night in the Griffith house. I like the gluttonous holiday feast with the side dish to meat ratio hovering somewhere around 13:1. This requires many hours in the kitchen, so I much prefer to do this Christmas Eve and not on Christmas day, the day which I remain in pajamas until 2 p.m. and then take a half-assed shower and before going back to stare blankly at all the torn wrapping paper on the living room floor.

We took the kids to church on this holy evening of turkeys and I am pleased to announce that Eve did not light my hair on fire with the candle. It would have gone up in a flash if she got it any closer to my head, though. You know how highly flammable curly-haired girls' heads are.

When we arrived back home, the elves had already left us our Christmas pajamas. The kids seem okay with the elves having a key to our back door so they can sneak in and out and hang with Mart Brent.

It was time to eat the Who-pudding and eat the Roast Beast. Then it was off to case people's homes, which is normally kind of creepy but it's completely acceptable when it's Christmas time. Our favorite, by far, was this house:

I wish I had my wide-angle lens so you could appreciate this house in all its glory. This picture is about 1/4 of everything that was in the yard. These people even have their own radio station to listen to when you drive by! And they give you candy! No, Aunt Bethany, those are Christmas lights.

And I'd like to take this moment to lead you to believe when we got home and put the kids in bed and put away the 20 lb. turkey and 13 side dishes that I went straight to bed because I had already wrapped every present and put it under the tree weeks before.

Except I didn't even finish shopping until the night before. And who the heck has time to wrap before Christmas Eve night? I've been busy! With what, I can't remember at this point. But I know there is a good reason we wait until hours before Christmas morning to wrap all the gifts.

Matt taped a sign to the upstairs gate that said, "Do not open." Would you believe this stopped Natalie from opening the gate and letting Search and Destroy downstairs? I was surprised, too. It's like an honor system for the State Pen.

There was lots of merriment. Daniel got his clock, Natalie got her wristwatch, and Eve got her Pinkalicious dress. Now Nat and Dan will never be late for the evening tantrum when Eve has to take off her Pinkalicious dress.

Snow fell at midnight.

Snow kept falling the next day.

We gave Natalie tickets to see the Nutcracker with us and have a special lunch beforehand. Only problem was, no place was open because of this magic white stuff all around. Well, no place but an Irish pub.

Ehh, why not?

Father of the year!

She sat between us at the Nutcracker and made loud comments like, "Why are those boys dancing like girls?" and "Why are those boys wearing girl dance shoes?" I like to shift to the left and let Matt field those kinds of questions.

Matt and I took Eve to see Tangled. Gigantic bucket of popcorn, check. Turning over remainder of bucket onto van floor, check. My van floor is where orange cracker crumbs come to die. A cup or so of unpopped kernels will fit right in, and if not, the remains of the Crunch and Munch from last week will make them feel at home.

I'll never understand why small children will be done eating something and then simply toss it on the ground. I've never been to a steak house and gotten full and thought, well, I'll just throw the rest of this filet and baked potato on the ground for some poor sap to clean up after me. Because I'm done. And that's what we do.

Daniel got to go to Marbles Kids Museum with us. It is his favorite place and I don't mind paying to get in so someone else can walk behind him and pick up the mess he's happily making. Now only if I could trick them into following us home and cleaning the baseboards.
Here is Dan building himself a giant Lego house. Matt and I got a little too into it, but we paid to get in just like all the rest of these short people.
I wouldn't mind having a set of these around the house. I'd say chances are low that I'd suck any up in the vacuum or step on one because I couldn't see it. You know that dance you do when you step on a small, hard toy barefoot and you are clenching the injured foot in your hands and hopping on the other foot in a circle while saying "Ow! Ow! Ow!" peppered with things you mustn't say in front of children?

I hate that dance.

And of course, nothing was open for dinner afterward except for a bar. But at least we were there in time for half-priced wings.

We told Daniel he could pick any place to sit and we followed him awkwardly past loads of empty tables to...the bar.
It's cool, though. He was way into Bloodsport with Jean-Claude Van Damme and didn't notice me sucking meat off of bones like some kind of crazy hyena. I don't think there is a civilized way to eat wings, and I'm certainly not going to try when I'm sitting at the bar with my son.

What do you think- should I wake Eve up and see if she wants to go out for a nightcap?

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