I hope everyone had an awesome Christmas!
I know I did.
Lots of family time.
Lots of food.
And, more importantly, lots of booze.
I was going to write one of those “Christmas wrap-up” posts today, telling you about the awkward encounter with my extended family on Christmas Eve, the awesome time I had celebrating with my own family on Christmas Day for the first time in many years, and the weird meringue creations my brother-in-law made for dessert.
Who knew that man was so good with egg whites and castor sugar?
But then something more spectacular happened, and I had to share it with all of you.
I have mentioned in the past that my daughter has been a late talker. This used to worry me, but her pediatrician has convinced me it’s nothing to worry about.
So I don’t stress about it very much anymore, but I admit that when I hear about other kids her age saying complicated words like “patience” or “Wednesday”, and forming sentences like “I gonna get you!”, I do freak out a little bit.
And I typically drink a little bit more wine when I hear such things.
But as we don’t socialize with a lot of kids her age, I mostly don’t think about it.
Anyway, Christmas rolled around, and we had 3 celebrations to attend in 2 days, which is more socialization than my daughter has ever done. Add the excitement of new toys and the fact that having a steady stream of booze in my body makes me less anal about sleep schedules, and we had one tired child on our hands by the time we started packing up at my in-laws on the night of the 25th.
Just before we were about to leave, The Kid had a dirty diaper, so the 2 of us escaped into a quiet room so I could change her.
She must’ve loved the peace and quiet because as soon as we went downstairs to join the masses and say our goodbyes, she lost it, and nothing I said, or sang, or did was going to make her happy.
I knew we were on borrowed time, so rather than continue all of my calming shenanigans, I started getting the 2 of us ready to leave while The Hubs loaded up our car.
After I managed to get both of our coats on, I was momentarily distracted by a conversation happening to my right, so I picked up The Kid for a second so I could weigh in on whatever was being discussed.
And just as I did that, she decided she’d officially had enough and yelled: “PUT MY SHOES ON!”
It was the best. Christmas present. ever.
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