Merry Christmas
2005-12-22, 11:45 a.m.

Hubby thought he was being cute yesterday.

In a couple of hours (give or take twelve), the kids and I are leaving for SC, and he will come on Saturday. Sunday afternoon we go to his mother�s. Typically, since my mom�s is on the way, we leave Hubby�s pickup at her house, then spend another night with Mama on the way back home. It�s three hours from MIL�s to Mama�s, and then 5 hours from Mama�s to home.

Hubby wants to spend some of his time off studying, brushing up on some egghead mathematics before next semester. His mother�s house is very, very quiet. He told me that we would take both vehicles to his mom�s, then the kids and I could go back to my mother�s, spend a night, shove all the stuff (tree, 500lb ornament boxes, etc) in the attic for her, and he would stay at his mom�s one more night to study. The next day, he would leave from his mom�s to go home (8 hour drive), and I would leave from mine (5 hour drive).

Yes, I did believe that he could be that big an idiot, and I said as much on his voice mail at work. My message went something like

I DON�T KNOW WHERE YOU THINK I�M GOING TO GET A TESTOSTERONE INFUSION BETWEEN NOW AND NEW YEAR�S, BECAUSE THE SAME SIZE BOXES I NEEDED YOUR HELP WITH IN THE ATTIC HERE ARE THE SAME ONES YOU BELIEVE I CAN MAGICALLY HANDLE ON MY OWN AT MY MOTHER�S.

AND I HOPE YOUR SCHOOLBOOK HAS ROUNDED EDGES, OR ELSE IT�S GOING TO BE ONE PAINFUL CHRISTMAS SUPPOSITORY.

Never mind the double mileage, gas, etc.

He called back, disappointed that I had taken so long to respond (I tried a flaming email, but had forgotten his new email address at work), and absolutely tickled with himself for finding a new and entertaining way to PUSH MY BUTTONS.

I�m not only a wife, I�m a contact sport.

In case you�re wondering, yes I�ve already got the what-time-are-you-leaving-by-the-way-if-you-happen-to-go-to-Target-first-I-need-you-to-buy-two-more-of-these phone call from my mother. Oh, if I also happen to go by the party store, please see if they have Christmas print toilet paper.

Seriously.

We should get out of here somewhere around midnight.

I don�t mind helping Mama (for the most part), and I love why she has her Christmas Eve drop-in. Yes, she functions best when in the middle of an adoring crowd, and yes, it�s a time to spend with friends and family, but more importantly, some of those who come are widowed or whose grown children have to spend Christmas Eve with �the other side of the family�, and they would probably squat at home alone. Nobody should be all alone on Christmas Eve, unless they really really want to. Having a big ol� party is fun. It would be more fun if I could finally convince my mother after all these years that it really doesn�t matter if her house is spotless. It isn�t the other 364 days of the year, and nobody from House Beautiful is coming to critique. Just fill it with love like always and you�re set.

I am looking forward to having an excuse to throw away 450 of the 451 Lands� End catalogs on the coffee table. She keeps them all year. Why? Because the old ones have things in them that she might want to order that aren�t included in the new ones.

Don�t go there. I�ve tried. It makes my brain hurt.

Last, but not least, proof that they can get within a quarter mile of each other with neither cootie exchanges nor atomic blasts:

From our family to yours, a very Merry Christmas and rockin� New Year.

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