Christmas at my Dad's was on the 26th.
Of all the Christmas festivities, this was the one I fretted most about springing Corinna into. Not that I thought she wouldn't like this wing of the family, far from it, it's just a lot of moving parts, a lot of noise, a lot of chaos.
The Cuz Count is up to ten with the addition of Austin, and those cousins range in age from six months to sixteen years, with an emphasis on pre-teen.
And, true story, there were two bloody noses at Thanksgiving from just roughhousing.
Nothing to worry about though: if she was in the slightest but intimidated by the gathering I doubt she would have performed her 816 poem.
The Chiefs did their part to secure a playoff berth for the fist time since '04.
Mo got some 'Molly Girls' dolls, what the 'Glamour Girls' says if you look at it the right way:
And then there was the unveiling of the calendar.
Mo surprised me by having some pie (usually she shuns it).
Is a fake drunk more charming than the real thing?
The Ghost Hunter got a light that makes him into a vaporous manifestation. I guess now he's got to find himself.
And as usual, I bought the scratchers tickets Todd would have given everyone. I don't know if it was related to my late step-brother's bipolar condition, but he gave everyone lottery tickets at Christmas. When I tried to tell him how bad the odds were, how it was a tax on stupidity, he just asked, 'I got an extra one, you want it?'
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