My parents are up this weekend for an early Christmas, since we aren’t going to travel this year. The have an SUV. The back of the SUV was Fokking loaded with loot for Lilo, Stitch and Spock. Seriously, they lured away the elves from Santa’s workshop, drugged them, and forced them into hard labor. It looked like a Queen Bee, who laid gifts instead of eggs, set up under my tree. The Magi were rank amateurs with shitty offerings compared to the Granny Glory that is my mother.
In order for my mom to experience maximum cuteness, I dressed the girls in their Christmas Dresses, which are floofy as fokk, for the wrapping-paper tearing extravaganza. Lilo and Stich wore their long hair down with a big curly bow to hold it back out of their faces, and it looked like a Charles Dickens wet dream Yule Tide of happiness and cute around the Christmas Tree. There was even snow on the ground, in order to fulfill all Victorian Holiday Perfection requirements. Christmas songs played in the background, via grooveshark, including Ella Fitzgerald singing the shit out of O Holy Night. If egg nog didn’t taste like egg ass, I would have made some just to complete the festivities. If we didn’t have an enclosed gas fireplace, I would have roasted chestnuts. Frankly, it was so Christmas Spirit up in here I wanted to go give birth in a stable and lay the babe in a manger, just to get really commemorative.
The girls dove into the pile of presents and had a frenzy of squee. Every piece of clothing was “The. Prettiest. Thing. Ever.” Every toy was the best toy they had ever received, ever. Every book was the most wonderful book that had ever been in the history of publishing. Even little Spock got into it, yelping her victory whenever she tore off another strip of wrapping paper. She wasn’t that concerned with the content of the boxes, but By God she dug ripping them open. Granny and Grandpa were profoundly satisfied by the emotions elicited by the gifts they had brought their grandbabies. Love and Joy ricocheted off the walls.
I then fed everyone a huge breakfast. I made the whole shebang. I made biscuits from scratch using the rendered lard(which is the healthiest option!) of pastured pigs. I fried bacon that had come from pastured pigs, and made milk gravy with the fat. I fried eggs from pastured hens. It was as organic and healthy as all hell, but a vegetarians worse nightmare. Still, there were many nom nom nom sounds around my table.
The grandparents then, to guarantee the continued worship and adoration of my daughters, took Lilo and Stitch to see Tangled. They said it was good, BTW. Sweet Babou and myself stayed home with Spock and sorted through the toy box, harvesting for charity. How many toys do kids need? Honestly.
Nevertheless there were two downsides. First, my parents had to leave Sunday Morning at the crack of dawn to beat the snowstorms home, so their trip was cut a day short. Secondly, there is no way that ‘Santa’ can compete with the haul Granny and Grandpa brought. Probably because my parents had kidnapped all the elves.
We are telling the girls the elves have the flu and it has caused a toy shortage, so Santa can only bring enough goodies to fill their stockings. Wish us luck.