This year we are hosting my husband's family's Christmas party. I've never hosted it and I don't own a tablecloth. I don't like them. I like the look of wood, not a tablecloth. I feel pressured to buy one. But enough about my neuroses.
OMG. Do I have make a cheeseball?
So, we're having this party. Santa will come, the hubs' grandmother will read T'was the Night Before Christmas, there will be gumbo (better than There Will Be Blood, but you never know), and we will have presents. There are always questionable presents, but you didn't hear that from me.
On Christmas Eve, we will go to church and then to my mother-in-law's for a party. There is no telling what we will have to eat. As you recall, last year I missed all the parties and stayed home on Percocet and had red velvet cake because that was the only thing I could eat that didn't hurt my recently-pulled wisdom teeth. This year I didn't schedule any surgeries, so I guess I have to be in attendance. It is too late to schedule some liposcution? Anysuction, at the MIL's house, we draw names for gifts. I usually get some Vera Bradley. I can't complain.
Christmas Day is all about the immediate family. Meaning, when my children wake up, they will immediately come wake us up so they can get to the loot Santa brought. I will pretend to be surprised with whatever the hubs gives me because most of the time I order whatever it is for myself (except last year when one of my gifts was Ricky Martin's biography).
