First and foremost...what the hell is up with Christmas? Or should I say X-Mas, if I choose to be more accurate. Several weeks ago I dragged Derek to Target (beyond his "there-is-no-way-in-hell-you-are-getting-me-into-a-retail-establishment" cutoff date for Christmas.
"Come on. I'm just going to run in and look for Christmas cards. We'll be in and out of there in no time."
No verbal response, but his look suggests that my bold-faced lies will be greatly punished.
We head straight to the back of the store, but he is too frightened to go down the aisle. Filled with women perusing the 7 shelves, each packed with 30 feet of card boxes.
"What the fuck? Would it kill Target to sell cards with the baby Jesus on them?"
Derek is extremely disturbed at the end of the aisle. Probably more to do with the fact that there are now 20 women in the aisle rather than the flagrant faux pax of using the F-word and baby Jesus in the same sentence. Either way, I find two boxes of extremely cheesy cards in the middle of the bottom shelf that will JUST NOT DO.
"That's it, we're leaving." With his relief actually palpable in the air around me, I waddled out of Target in dispair. What do you expect from a place that denied the Salvation Army bell ringers to do their good deeds out front?
Four stores later, I found myself in Hallmark. There he was, on the bottom row, in all his splendor. I had six baby Jesus cards to choose from. What is the world coming to?
New Year's Eve 2004
Kristen--too pregnant to cook, but cooking anyway
Derek--doing ALL the heavy lifting, never a complaint to be heard (what have I ever done to deserve him???)
Jennifer/Greg--soon to be newest Feebie and her soon to be husband
Cath --attorney extraordinare
Carl--my entertainment/steadfast friend
Matt--soon to be divorcee that spent the evening flirting with the attorney
Zinni--busted for eating below-mentioned asparagus from the trash can
Spinach Artichoke Dip
Baby Greens Salad with goat cheese
Escargot a la Bourguignonne
Homemade Fettuccini with Butternut Squash, sage and prosciutto
Steak au poivre, Pomme frites and Asparagus with Orange Hollandaise Sauce
Black and White Creme Brulee
Whatever will we do with our weekends without Fantasy Football?
Here's the problem. It's over. All the stat-tracking, endless researching and smack-talking with the attorneys in the pool has come to a grinding halt. Derek got 3rd place. Not bad for a boy that cannot be bothered with football anyway. But we lived for it. Jamal Lewis's injury status? Will Portis finally play? What if Bulger has a better game than Brees, but he is on the bench? All our endless nights of hitting refresh on the laptop, staying up way past bedtime to see if Monday night football would send us over the edge into the winner's circle. Of course my contribution was nay-saying and bets that playing one felon over another would be a better choice. My husband both tolerated and humored me. Occasionally he would let me send off smart ass emails. I'm sure received on the other end by recipients that were shocked to hear such confrontation from mild-mannered Derek.
Now what will we do? Maybe we should clean the house or just stop pretending that it is 7 years and not 7 weeks until Baby E joins our happy little family.