I walked out of James Bond last night after the first scene. The violence made my heart double dribble and I started getting hot flashes.
I came home to watch Isabel Allende shove peanuts down her dress on Craig Ferguson.
I had a tuna sandwich on hazelnut bread. It needed more mustard.
I watched the sporadic snow out my front window.
I went to the lot and picked out a flocked Christmas tree, skinny and tall. Three things that I never thought I’d like in a tree. Ironically, three things I’d never like in a man. Time changes everything. I guess.
I hosted the Evening of Excellence for the Young Women. LaToya’s mom brought chocolate truffles that I will now rename ecstasy chunks. The rate of addiction would alarm you.
I let Ralphy, the world’s cutest Lab-mix dog come in the house while I decorated for the holidays. He ate some cranberry bread which leads me to think that he is also the world’s most discerning Lab-mix with a refined palate.
If I love my children as much as I love my Ralph, I think I might not have them (not like it’s my choice at the moment) but whenever someone mentions his name I start crying and feel all tender inside.
I can’t say the same for my other hound Dutchy, but she is growing on me. Sometimes.
I said some prayers at the time that my husband was stomping around on the roof trying to figure out why our Christmas lights keep shorting out. Like I always say, it’s not Christmas until the man of the house swears at something.
I put Justine’s Christmas card on my Christmas card poll. At present, hers is the only one up there, but I must say that it’s cute enough that it needs no company. Getting Christmas cards is a lovely happening. I must say.
I hoped I would get more Christmas cards.
I fell asleep last night on our new memory bed pad (thanks In-laws) wondering how many experiences do we humans all share in common.
Did anyone else melt while watching their dog scarf cranberry bread?
where do you get hazelnut bread and cranberry bread?? sounds yummy. And yes, I do get all choked up and misty eyed when I think of my youngin’s. There’s nothing in the world like it….except maybe hazelnut bread.
I definitely melt in moments like you described. In fact, I’m an easy melter and my eyes leak easily too. So much so that whenever I witness something sentimental (say the ending scenes of Extreme Makeover Home Edition) my kids all turn to look and see if Mom is crying yet.
So predictable.
Other shared experiences–love truffles and Christmas cards–especially when delivered together. Mmmm.
Well, no snow here. My husband has banned christmas lights. No dog either. Hmmm…what’s in common? Justine’s lovely Christmas card. Not in common? Wishing I get more Christmas cards because then I would HAVE to feel guilty about not sending them out. Maybe the email gods will look kindly at my little family this year and motivate me to send something to my extended family and friends. But I kind of doubt it.
Two things.
Do you like the memory bed pad? I think I want one, if it will help save my ancient mattress from certain garbage-heap future.
And, I LOVE CHRISTMAS CARDS! I send Christmas cards to people I haven’t talked to in 10 years, just because it’s the only time of the year I can say I remember all the friends I’ve ever had. It’s my one chance to connect to the world every year.
I want everyone to send me a Christmas card! I put them all on the mantle, surrounded by holly and other froofy decorations. It makes me feel warm and cozy and loved by all the planet.
Maralise, my husband hates Christmas lights. But my kids give him their saddest “You’ve-killed-Christmas” faces for about a week, and then he always relents and gets out the ladder.
no, but i melted watching james bond…i really loved that movie!! i like tall skinny men too.
I’m with Nie, the Bond movie improved considerably.
I don’t have a dog, but I do have an almost three-year old that I like uh-lot. I melt when he asks for something–who knew that a spoken sentance could be so adorable? I melt when he spontaneously says “Love you, Mama” and when he wants kisses. I also melt when he tells me to leave the room, directing the traffic of me so that he can do something bad.
I am in love with my new tree–tinsel, retro, disco balls and feather birds. I was distracted by the tree when Isabelle shoved those nuts down her dress.
I love those tuna on hazelnut sandwiches, they make me happy.
I love sexy spy guys, hazelnuts, husbands who hang lights, and cjane.
I melt when I’m scratching my “baby”’s back and he tells me not to forget “the corners.”
I melt when my only daughter comes home from school and tells me that she thinks this boy she has had a crush on for ages–who broke her heart–deep down really must like her afterall because he always looks to see if she’s open when they play football at recess.
I melt when my 15-year-old son and I get in a physical “fight” in the car because he’s desperately trying to talk to one of his friends on my cell phone while I am desperately trying to crank up the Gorillaz song on the radio and his other friend (a girl) tells us “I just love your relationship!”
I melt when I come home from work three days in a row and find my 17-year-old son–who would really rather be taking a nap–has cleaned up the family room and the living room and piled all the dirty dishes in the sink.
I would melt over a sandwich on hazelnut bread, only I don’t think I’ve ever had hazelnut bread and I’m still waiting to find out where I can buy some.
I most definitely would melt over chocolate truffles. And they would melt in my mouth, too.
I want a puppy. If I had one, I would feed him any kind of bread he wanted (especially since I can’t eat it anyway).
Today I melted when my husband returned from an “errand” with dark chocolate (the pricey, delectable kind) purchased just for me. I’d been grumpy all day, and he wanted to cheer me up. He held my hand, I ate the chocolate, and we talked about getting a Christmas tree. It was all so very melty.
Today I melted after taking my kids to see the musical Christmas lights (this house is decked out in uber lights that fade in/out and turn on/off with the beat of the music on the radio).
3yr old: “I want lights like that.”
6yr old brother: “That would cost, like, a THOUSAND dollars.”
3yr old: (simply) “I’ll just ask Yo Ho for them.”
Apparently Santa gives you whatever you ask for and is a pirate or the Jolly Green Giant.
My husband spent yesterday chopping wood for my sister. He delivered it to her house, along with two full boxes of kindling and he cleaned out her chimney. That melted my heart. It was his idea, too.
Justine–Send me photos of the “You’ve killed Christmas” faces. I will definitely instruct the boys on how to do it. I’ll let you know if it works.