Thursday, December 25, 2008

"Merry Kisses"

If there was ever any cuter mispronunciation of an overused holiday greeting, I don’t know what it could be. My bitchy & cold once-goth heart melts into a puddle when she squeaks it in her itty pea-sized voice. Endless lectures about commercialist vapidity and rampant consumerism fade into a sweet little chocolate-dipped chorus of twinkly bells and tree toppers and I can sink into the fun of a family ritual that in all honesty has lost all vestiges of All Hail The Baybeh Jeebus but evolved into an adorable rite of Mortal Baby Squee-Inducing.

Merry Kisses, Intarwebs.

If my grammar went off the rails one or two run-on sentences ago, you’ll forgive it as a little known side-effect of scoliosis/sciatica. What happens is this: crooked spine puts too much pressure on a set of (saucily) humungous hips. Nerves get pinched, muscles spasm, and a level of pain ensues that should- given sufficient health insurance- be followed by a hearty bottle of opiates or muscle relaxants. In the absence of such health care our patient, displaying much moxie and innovation, decides to seek babysitting from the grandies and heads to bed with a bottle of rum in one hand and a bottle of Coke in the oth- OK, the other bottle’s on the night stand but I’m going for universal appeal so let’s imagine I’m double fisting it. And so, yes: poor grammar = drunk blogging = pain management.

Be assured, though, that the family fest of prezzies was very enjoyable. My back didn’t seize up into a fiery ball of furious evil until this afternoon- after the Bird had her Santa time. The Eve with the grandies was very nice. I had a successful first attempt at cheesecakery and the (Mormon but way hospitable) in-laws even brewed a nummy pot of actual coffee for us heathens!

The Boue is floating on a happy cloud of Baby Emma (giant, plastic, um, HUGE), a toy kitchen, and a wicked groovy rockin’ horse. Sorry- the ‘g’ felt all wrong there. After a coupla drinks I’m physically incapable of twang-supression. Even in type... weirdest thing...

She mostly ignored miss Elizabeth Tweets (handmade Etsy find extraordinaire) but I'd prepared myself for that. I think she's the cutest thing ever ever ever. The toddler'll come around after the euphoria of mass-gift receiving has settled.

So, the hubz is off to hang with the nephew's new toys his brother, the girly is snuggled in with sugar, Mamaw, Pinto the Awesome Horsey, and Tinkerbbell on DVD. I'm fixin' ta turn off A Chistmas Story (OMG this is hilarious! Never even heard of it until I married the Buddha... now it's so famous!) and spend a spell with Hulu and my heating pad. Have I ever toldjall The Secret? The Secret is a hot, damp towel between your sore ass and the heating pad. Helps muchly. Yer welcome.


  1. Merry kisses!

    Oh, ooh! A chiropractor fixed my sciatic nerve issue a while back. Good deal for me, not sure if it would work for you, though love ;)

  2. I LOVE it when you blog in twang!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Total sexy!!!!

    Merry Kisses = I can stand by that :D


  3. a moist heat pack called a bed buddy nuke it for 2 minutes and good for awhile, available at walgreens is even better