Should I be panicking? Yes, I agree, I probably should be. It's time to deck my halls and figgy a pudding. This weekend I think I'll go through the annual ritual of pulling out the Christmas lights, spend a couple of hours (minutes) trying to untangle them, and give up and declare my decision to skip the lights is all about environmentalism. I don't have LED lights, after all... which is as criminal as driving a non-hybrid car or eating non-organic pretzels or something like that.
Maybe I'll get my consumer juices flowing with a couple of online purchases today... or maybe my kids will finally have a solid case in the court of "my mom is lame about the holidays." Although, I'd have a pretty hard time topping last year's Christmas dinner that consisted almost entirely of popcorn... and watching some kind of 20/20 or 48 Hours episode about how the crackdown on illegal immigrants brought construction in Colorado's mountain towns to a standstill.
Fa La La La.
Seriously, though, we did have a nice time last year... it just wasn't the kind of fun time Norman Rockwell would ever have painted - mostly because I seem to remember some of us weren't wearing pants.
Oooh, in other news, Mr. K, kiddo #1, and I went to see Stanton Moore at a local bar on Saturday night. Forget the fact that C is 12 and we took her to a bar. That's not the eyebrow raising part of the whole thing... See, at one point K and I were young and reckless(ish) and we did occasionally go see live music (although we were - and still are - cheapskates when it comes to buying drinks while we're out... It's hard to cope with a $5 beer when that's almost enough to buy a 6-pack of really really good beer at the local liquor stores... sheesh!) but we seem to have forgotten everything about going to hear music at a bar and made sure to head to the venue a little early to make sure we got good seats. Yeah, Robin... because bars often have rows of seats set up for their well-behaved and well-dressed clientele. So old... so, so old. Then, realizing that being 15 minutes early was unnecessary when we got seats right in front of a bar on Saturday night in the busiest part of our town, we waited in the car, talked, C nearly fell asleep since she had been at a sleepover the night before, and we pondered when exactly things would get started once we had been sitting in the car for 90 minutes and there was still no sign of a concert other than some rather impaired people smoking out front. In the end, the music started a little after 10 (when it was scheduled to begin at 8:30), and we were all wiped out by the mid-concert break. Luckily we stuck around long enough to get the kid's CD signed. Stanton Moore shook her hand and told her to keep up the percussion and signed her CD as well as a concert poster with "Stay Funky". For some reason that really cracked me up because C is many things but I'm not sure "funky" is one of them. Either way, it introduced a new "ism" to our family dictionary. We now send her off to school with "stay funky" rather than the typical "love you" or "have a nice day".
The rest of the weekend was spent on math homework because what else could a 12-year-old possibly do with her time, after all?
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