I get out of work nice and early, but my thighs are still on fire so I take it easy, enjoying a little bit of cardio before coming home to crash.
We're supposed to put up our Christmas lights and I get maybe five hours before getting up to start working on our tree (I refuse to sweat when I have to meet Susie and Nicky for dinner and movies in a few hours). Here's the thing with our Christmas tree: it always looks like Santa threw up on it.
Fact is, we've been in the states since 1993, and we've been collecting/hoarding Christmas ornaments ever since. So we have pretty much any and all types of Christmas ornaments you can think of. From bows, to mice, to things that glitter, to baby shoes,
...to the wonderfully religious...
...to the sparkly
...and even to those that dangle like chandeliers
Billy (bless his soon-to-be-in-law-heart) not only went out to get Christmas lights to replace our broken ones, but also spent longer than I did in stringing said lights outside our home in place of our Daddy's awful back. He didn't have to, but the gesture is sweet and it makes me so happy that, after 23 years, I finally get a baby brother to help out around the house.
I bail early because I have dinner plans with my wife and daughter, and we dine on steak and chicken while I admire an incredibly adorable little toddler at the next table who can't stop staring at Nicky's afro with admiration and fascination. A little later, we're at the movies, watching the Muppets and being very amused over the bad hilarity and the fact that they alluded to weed within the first ten minutes of the movie.
