Now... on to Christmas!
Sass Monkey is just now starting to really understand the Santa idea. Unfortunately, this realization has not happened in conjunction with a deeper understanding of time and space so every morning starts with "Santa comes today? It's Christmas?" and then every five minutes after that... and after that... and after that.... Poor guy, it's killing him. He spent most of Sunday hovering around the fireplace (of course, with no fire in it) with his play tools "fixing" it so that it would be safe for Santa. This also means that we will now need a new metal fireplace curtain as he some how managed to disassemble and destroy the old one with plastic Black and Decker pliers... Very realistic.
I would also like to report that Sprinkles has learned a new word. While she refuses to say "Momma" and will only occasionally use "Dadda", she will drop "Biscuit" with a clarity and conviction to rival the most finely trained of orators. "Mommy" ranks so far below these delicious breakfast breads that she may do no more than point and grunt at me until she is 12.
"Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds..."
(Shakespeare, Sonnet 116)
Now, because I have blocked out most of the last 4 days and hope to have it remain buried in my subconscious for the rest of my life, I am going to forgo the blow-by-blow (heh, blow) replay of the afore mentioned cluster in which I got to drink even less than I got to sit still. (Holiday FAIL, folks.) Instead, you are getting a listing of memorable quotes from the excruciatingly long weekend. Enjoy!
Sass: "Mommy, you're giving me a heart attack." (Said in the middle of a crowded grocery store at the top of his lungs)
"Wow... that baby sure likes her sausage." * awkward pause* "Huh. That's something that shouldn't be said after she turns 18."
Sass: "That can has GRASS in it." (Said while furiously wiping his tongue off on his jacket sleeve after he sprayed Deep Woods Off directly into his mouth.)
"That cake has liquor in it. Do you think the baby would like some?"
Sass's Great-Grandma: "What is he saying?"
Me: "Penis, Grandma. He's saying "penis"."
Sass's Great-Grandma: "Oh."
And this is all I can REMEMBER... Imagine all the gems I have blocked out because of my PTHD (Post-Traumatic-Holiday-Disorder)....