Scissor Sins
I saw my best friend Debbie’s brother maybe twice in my life. He was nearly 15 years older, and away at college. But I did notice that one of his eyes seemed different than the other, and I remarked on it to my mother. “Don’t say anything about it,” my mother said. “It’s a glass eye. When he was little, he was running and accidentally put his eye out with scissors.” So, HE was the guy! All this time I thought the kid who ran with scissors was a fictional character created to throw a scare into kids (like the thought of having a pair of scissors stuck in your eye wasn’t enough). Not only was he real, he was my best friend’s brother! Personally, I couldn’t remember ever having had the urge to run while holding a pair...
You’re Not From Around Here Are You?
According to the Dixie vs. Yankee accent test on www.alphadictionary.com, I’m 92 percent Dixie. My daughter sent me the test, saying she had scored 86 percent despite, as she said, “her foray into Yankeeville.” A reference to her having lived in Baltimore for a year. I hated to tell her this, but Maryland is, in fact, a Southern state. The first time I took it, I scored 86 percent as well, but in going over the answers, I realized that I do, in fact, pronounce the word “aunt” as “aint,” but only every now and then — usually when I’m around my family. I was a little surprised my score was that high, being as how I hadn’t lived in my native East Texas for some 20 years. Plus, I’d been married to a...
I Would’ve Finished It Too, If It Weren’t For Those Meddling Kids
It just shouldn’t be this hard. But somehow, it always is. I try to enjoy decorating the Christmas tree, I really do. After all, it’s really important to the kids. They love gathering around the tree, carefully placing heirloom ornaments on the tree while Christmas music plays in the background, a cup of hot cocoa waiting in the kitchen. In my dreams. That’s the only place that scene has ever existed. I realized this a few days ago when I attempted to engage my children in the family tradition of putting up ye olde Christmas tree. The first order of business — getting the tree. Oh, what fun. In my dreams, the kids would clap with delight as I exclaimed “Hey, let’s go get the Christmas tree!” My son Tony would eagerly hunt down...
For Better or Worse, Every Christmas is Memorable
I was asked to share my most memorable Christmas a few weeks ago — a gift or a memory — and I just couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t narrow it down. When did I realize that Santa Claus wasn’t real? It was at age two if you believe my mother, and I do. She had spent money that my parents really didn’t have to buy a Santa suit so my dad could provide their firstborn with a private audience with St. Nick. Although technically, Santa would visit my sister Marla, too. At four-months old, I doubt they anticipated that a visit from Santa would generate much of a response from her, beyond a burp. I doubt they had anticipated my response upon seeing Santa for the first time, either, which was … “Daddy!” They had the suit, the...
Zen And The Art of Gift Wrap
OK, I’ll admit it. I’m a gift gabber. A present pronouncer. A what’s-in-the-box? A blabbermouth. Or at least, I used to be. I haven’t given away anyone’s big Christmas gift in at least … well, let’s just say it’s been a really long time. Not that anyone in my family would ever let me forget it. Sure, some people could look at it as ruining the surprise, but honestly, Darla was very excited and happy when I asked her if she liked her contacts. In fact, she started screaming and clapping with joy, “I’m getting contacts? I’m getting contacts?” How was I supposed to know she hadn’t opened them yet? We had been opening presents for hours… hours! And I had to take a bathroom break. So when...
We’re Gonna Need a Bigger Elf…
The Christmas plan e-mail came yesterday from my sister Marla, the organizational elf. “We need to pin down our Christmas plans. We had tentatively set Saturday, December 23rd as the date of our family get-together at the Farm and it would be for dinner that night, with people arriving shortly after lunch or whenever you wanted to get there. This year we want to make it easier so we don’t have to spend all our free time cooking … we thought about getting something like a variety of ribs, chopped beef, beans, potato salad … we can supplement with whatever we’d like to add to that.” “Since most of the kids are not kids anymore, we’re inviting them to bring a ‘white elephant’ and we’ll have one...
The Magical Mystical World of Jane (Or How to Beat Martha Stewart)
I love Martha Stewart. I really do. Really. I read her magazine, buy her books, and watch her television show. I order things from her catalog. But no matter how much I read, watch or spend, I know that I will never be her. Never. It isn’t for the lack of trying. She makes being perfect look so easy. Of course, Ginger Rogers made dancing with Fred Astaire look easy too, but I never, ever once imagined that I ever could pull that off. That was fantasy, and I knew it. But not with Martha. I’ve been watching Martha and her friends prepare for Thanksgiving all week. They’ve stuffed, boned, blackened and garnished — almost makes me think I could do it. And that’s the trouble with Martha. She seems so real. The only way you can tell that she...
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