For the first time, I think since I was born, friends and family have no Christmas card from me and mine.
1947 - age 4 |
How pathetic is that? I blew the opportunity to have someone snap a couple of photos during last Saturdays party and we felt crummy on Sunday and beyond. In desperation, putting vanity aside and facing the fact that we were going downhill fast, I came up with an appropriate picture idea - having a blanket pulled up to our chins, thermometers in our mouths and toasting with cans of Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup. But, as fate would have it, we had already consumed the soup and felt too bad to make a run to the store for more.
Now, with Hubs completely down and me trailing close behind and only one mail delivery day left before Christmas, I surrender. There is a bit of relief in giving up and giving in...a bit of holiday stress removed, an unexpected gift of extra time. I've spent it remembering...Christmases past and Christmases long, long ago, and occasionally breaking into song:
"...There'll be parties for hosting
Marshmallows for roasting
And caroling out in the snow.
There'll be scary ghost stories
And tales of the glories
Of Christmases long, long ago..."
Marshmallows for roasting
And caroling out in the snow.
There'll be scary ghost stories
And tales of the glories
Of Christmases long, long ago..."
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