Monday, December 5, 2016

Corn, Water and Wood

"You Sunk My Battleship!"  Jingle Bells and Snowflake were in the middle of a game of Star Wars Episode I Battleship this morning under the tree, just having a good time.  Behind them was another gift of Christmas, an advent gift left each day this month.  So the tradition has continued that Madison takes a link off of the chain she made on the wall, opens a door on her chocolate surprise advent calendar, finds her elf doing something goofy, and unwraps a gift found under one of the trees.  Quite a few surprises each morning before school!

Madison went off to school this morning, and Daddy went off to pre-lab, which is basically taking blood and asking questions and getting an EKG before the surgery next Monday.  Again, the plan is to take out Daddy's gall bladder through a tiny incision.  What becomes of the gall bladder though?  Good question.  Daddy has put some thought into this, and come up with what I think are ten reasonable suggestions.  We shall call them:

"Top Ten Things to do with a Removed Gall Bladder." 

1.  Give it to a loved one:  "I'd give you my heart, but how does a gall bladder sound instead?"
2.  Leave it at Goodwill as a donation.  Come back later and see how much it sells for.
3.  Give it to someone who wishes they had a girlfriend.  Say you thought they actually said they wanted a 'gall friend.' 
4.  Put it in a small canopic jar in the basement of that huge pyramid they're building for me in Lumpkin County.
5.  Make a festive seasonal dish.
6.  Repeatedly ask friends if they want to play "Oregon Trail." Then show them your gall bladder, until someone says, "Okay, I get the joke!  Leave us alone!"
7.  Put two small googly eyes on it, and name your new friend "Gally."
8.  Wait for that right moment to strike when someone says, "Who would have the gall to do that?"
9.  Make a Facebook profile for your gall bladder and see how many friends it gets.
10.  Use it in a lively game of cornhole toss with the other surgeons in the hospital parking lot.

  The pre-lab went well, I assume.  The rest of the day was rather restful, with some catching up to do in the house.  There were neglected messes to clean-up, and bills to pay.  There were Christmas stamps to collect, and Christmas pictures to order.

     But there was also snuggling to be done.  We skipped out on ballet tonight, as advised, mainly because the ballet instructors recommended it after a long weekend of Nutcracking.  The weird thing is that technically, the class was still tonight.  It's just that nobody will probably be there.  We're all zonked.

     So Mommy gave Madison a bath tonight, one that was long overdue.  And Daddy went out on a mission to pick up some items from the grocery store that made him smirk.  Popcorn for the movies, water bottles, and some wood to make a fire in the fireplace.  The reason for the smirking was the realization that he was going out to get the stuff in that Christmas song:  "Corn, Water and Wood."  It's one of our favorite Riders in the Sky songs, and it was just funny that it was these three groceries we needed to get.

     Anyway, when the bath was over and Daddy returned, we sat down on the couch to watch "The Polar Express."  It's probably Daddy's favorite Christmas movie, but we all love it.  We had the blankets on, the popcorn popped, the fire crackling in the fireplace, and the lights down low.  'Tis the season for classic Christmas movies.

     Before bedtime, we did what is now becoming another annual tradition:  on December 5th, we leave a pair of boots in front of the chimney, something like this:

     In honor of our Western Christmas this year, we've got Madison's cowboy boots there.  Tomorrow is St. Nicholas Day, and the tradition is that overnight, there will be left some candy and presents in boots left by the fireplace.  We'll see what happens.
     Obviously, Krampus is not coming by our house tonight.  Madison has been so good this year.  Word seems to have spread about Krampus, and he's becoming a little too mainstream over here in North America.  What started out as a bizarre and obscure  holiday tradition in the Alps is fast becoming one of those things people like to tell you about as if you've never heard it before.  "Did you know there's a monster named Krampus that comes to get bad children in the middle of the night, who places the naughty one in a washtub he carries on his back?"

     Yes, we know.  Tonight, we might have caught a glimpse of Krampus in the woods, off galavanting with clowns and other things deep amongst the darkened trees.  There might be some naughty children in this neighborhood after all.  Based on the occasional firework launches at 2:00 am this summer, I'm guessing some folks on Riverwood Drive might be in for a rough night tonight.

     Krampus is not exactly a subtle sort of creature.  Despite his terrifying appearance, I'm not entirely sure how he gets that washtub into the house.  Does he go through the chimney with that thing?  Or is it one of those knock-on-the-door moments that sort of catches folks by surprise?  We'll be sure to ask around tomorrow.  One more thought:  I wonder what the HOA's stance is on this sort of thing?  Oh, never mind.  It just occurred to me that the HOA is probably one of the first stops on Krampus' list!  Ho, ho, oh no!

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