The sun is shining in a blue sky. Today is my last day of work for 2.5 weeks. My mom is here! My brother and his girlfriend arrive in 2 days. Nearly all of my Christmas presents are wrapped (up until midnight last night). I only need to buy a couple more things. There’s an inexplicable smell of almonds in the little bathroom that we can’t find the source for (mmmmm!) The tree is decorated. I have homemade gingerbread cookies from my grandma in my freezer, hand carried all the way from Michigan by my mom.
Conversation at lunch yesterday:
Me: …well, it was pouring rain and we couldn’t go get the Christmas tree so I took the kids to see Heeting Nemo* instead…*long pause*…hahaha! That was the best Swenglish I’ve ever heard myself say! Bahahaha!
Camilla: You’re laughing way too hard at your own joke.
Me: I didn’t say it on purpose! hahahahahaha!
Camilla: (laughing) You know I’m only laughing at you laughing at yourself.
We live in a world where Paris Hilton’s TV show’s ratings beat an exclusive TV interview with the President of the United States. Not sure whether to be amused or frightened by that.
It was interesting reading Christmas memories posted by some of my friends, and I commented on some of them with a memory of my own, that I thought I’d write up here for posterity. My mom and I had a good laugh over it last night.
One year before Christmas, when we were living in Belgium in a great big house, my sister and I decided to sneak a peek at the presents that we knew were “hidden” in mom and dad’s closet. We waited until the coast was clear and then dove in. Among the bags and boxes we found a little stuffed animal: a mouse in a basket, (if memory serves) that was just the cutest thing and we were in agonies over which of us was going to get this adorable toy on Christmas morning. Well, said morning rolled around and stockings were emptied and presents were opened and…no mouse. Not even for my brother. Pointed and questioning looks flew back and forth, but we couldn’t very well ASK where it was, now could we?!
Some not so long time later, we confessed and asked mom whatever happened to that mouse, and she had no idea what we were talking about, and claimed she’d never bought any such mouse. *boggle* So, either it was Santa’s retribution for being bad little girls, or someone has a faulty memory. Hmmmm…
My favorite Christmas memory and the one that makes not having my sister with me for Christmas the hardest, is that every year, without fail, on Christmas morning, my sister and I would get up super early, and creep into the living room. We never woke my brother for this, it was just between the two of us. We’d turn on the Christmas tree lights and then lie on the couch and just look and look at the magical tree. After an hour or so, when the time was right, we’d go wake up John and then dive into our stockings. 🙂
*Finding Nemo in Swedish is “Hitta Nemo,” pronounced “Heeta Nemo”