O Christmas III
Ainsley's parents returned Monday from two weeks out in snowy Seattle, and I was able to pick them up after work, saving them the $50 Super Saver charge and the 3 hours it would take for them to get someone to wander around Northern Virginia before dropping them off at our door. Ryan was quick to show them every single thing he got for Christmas, particularly the illuminating elephant on a stick. I think it also has a propeller of some sort.
Tuesday we awoke to Ainsley's oven-fresh cranberry pecan bread, then opened the remaining kilotons of Christmas presents among the six of us. I drove up to DTRA at lunch to see a friend's promotion ceremony, seeing old compatriots, eating the same teeth-staining blue-frosted cake we all get at these things.
Cooped up all day, the rest of the family wanted to go out to eat, so we decided on TGI Friday's to avoid the mall traffic. Erin ate loads, including an entire chicken strip, several platefuls of fried green beans, and some cucumbers and croutons, before being full and fed up enough to require me to carry her around the restaurant, pointing out the crap on the walls (astronaut, picture of JFK, Rod Stewart album covers, Darth Vader helmet) while people commented how cute she was. Which was true, since Ainsley had changed her outfit from whatever pink-on-polka-dotted-orange concoction I had come up with.
Went in for a half day on New Year's Eve (to a sparse office anyway), but I was grumpy most of the day on account of being up since 4:24 when the garbage men woke up our daughter and then me shaving the tip of my cheek mole off in groggy bathroomed stupor. But I made us nice big fire, and the ladies whipped up a yummy fondue for us all (Ryan was more interested in the forks than the cheese), before popping some bubbly and watching the second half of "Mamma Mia!", now Ryan's favorite movie in the history of time. Plum exhausted, the can-do Foulds-types kept us up chatting till near 11, but for the second straight year (at least?) the ball dropped in our sleep.
We need to move out west again. New Year's comes MUCH earlier out there. Live-TV wise, anyway.
Tuesday we awoke to Ainsley's oven-fresh cranberry pecan bread, then opened the remaining kilotons of Christmas presents among the six of us. I drove up to DTRA at lunch to see a friend's promotion ceremony, seeing old compatriots, eating the same teeth-staining blue-frosted cake we all get at these things.
Cooped up all day, the rest of the family wanted to go out to eat, so we decided on TGI Friday's to avoid the mall traffic. Erin ate loads, including an entire chicken strip, several platefuls of fried green beans, and some cucumbers and croutons, before being full and fed up enough to require me to carry her around the restaurant, pointing out the crap on the walls (astronaut, picture of JFK, Rod Stewart album covers, Darth Vader helmet) while people commented how cute she was. Which was true, since Ainsley had changed her outfit from whatever pink-on-polka-dotted-orange concoction I had come up with.
Went in for a half day on New Year's Eve (to a sparse office anyway), but I was grumpy most of the day on account of being up since 4:24 when the garbage men woke up our daughter and then me shaving the tip of my cheek mole off in groggy bathroomed stupor. But I made us nice big fire, and the ladies whipped up a yummy fondue for us all (Ryan was more interested in the forks than the cheese), before popping some bubbly and watching the second half of "Mamma Mia!", now Ryan's favorite movie in the history of time. Plum exhausted, the can-do Foulds-types kept us up chatting till near 11, but for the second straight year (at least?) the ball dropped in our sleep.
We need to move out west again. New Year's comes MUCH earlier out there. Live-TV wise, anyway.
posted by Dan at 11:07 PM
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