I need a leap month
Astounding how far behind I am for the holidays this year. I mean, really? December 13th, and I'm wrapping my first presents? Honestly? Where did November go?
It's not that it's hard to get into the Christmas spirit -- we had some good, crispy cold weather there for a stretch, and everyone has their lights up and music singing and random gift nuts and cookies and calendars are appearing at the office, not to mention the near-daily hallway parties one organization or another is throwing.
My unit's was last night, a cozy affair at the Club at Bolling AFB, with the highlight being the USAF's Strolling Strings, a 15-piece orchestra whose members walked around our tables, mariachi-like, playing a slew of Holiday tunes. They even had an accordionist, which made me think my Dad followed the wrong career path.
Ainsley's dear friend Kim watched the kids again, with Dad's help once he could get down the beltway in Friday-night traffic. Apparently Erin was her typical split self while we were gone, neither wanting to be held nor let go of. We learned that she crawled all around the house looking for Mommy, until she finally got to the door to the garage, pulled herself up into a standing position, put her head down on the door, and cried and cried, looking every bit like Charlie Brown at his empty mailbox.
Kim really is an awfully lovely person, don't get me wrong. Erin just prefers the Mom that Feeds.
It's not that it's hard to get into the Christmas spirit -- we had some good, crispy cold weather there for a stretch, and everyone has their lights up and music singing and random gift nuts and cookies and calendars are appearing at the office, not to mention the near-daily hallway parties one organization or another is throwing.
My unit's was last night, a cozy affair at the Club at Bolling AFB, with the highlight being the USAF's Strolling Strings, a 15-piece orchestra whose members walked around our tables, mariachi-like, playing a slew of Holiday tunes. They even had an accordionist, which made me think my Dad followed the wrong career path.
Ainsley's dear friend Kim watched the kids again, with Dad's help once he could get down the beltway in Friday-night traffic. Apparently Erin was her typical split self while we were gone, neither wanting to be held nor let go of. We learned that she crawled all around the house looking for Mommy, until she finally got to the door to the garage, pulled herself up into a standing position, put her head down on the door, and cried and cried, looking every bit like Charlie Brown at his empty mailbox.
Kim really is an awfully lovely person, don't get me wrong. Erin just prefers the Mom that Feeds.
posted by Dan at 2:03 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home