This was Evie's second Christmas. The third if you count the one where she was in the womb. But we don't so you shouldn't, either.
I am amazed at how much this event has taken over television this year. Do you realize that so many commercials advertised their deals but made no mention of why they were having the sale? Not even "For the holiday season" or anything. Just "Come save money this Friday after Thanksgiving by purchasing some of this Jabberwocky spit."
Sadly, nobody got me Jabberwocky spit for Christmas. To be fair, though, I don't know who even sells it anymore.
Sigh
Moving on. Evelyn literally made out like a bandit this year. I know people overuse that term to mean that their kids got a ton of toys (she did), but I mean she literally acted like a bandit. She tried to steal my marshmellow penguin from my stocking, M&M's from her mother, and if she liked a pair of socks I unwrapped, she took them and put them on her own feet and hands then paraded around the house like some sort of sock monster from the Lagoon of Socks..
So, in an effort to teach her that Christmas is more about giving rather than receiving, I took everything of hers and burned it. Then donated the ashes to Goodwill. Some say she still roams the streets of Indianapolis at night, looking for a doll to hug, wearing nothing but a soggy diaper, a pair of tears, and a hook for a hand!
Kidding. How do you teach a kid who isn't even two yet the true meaning of Christmas? I mean, we can read the second chapter of the Gospel of Luke, but she doesn't understand the phrase "Stop trying to put that in the dog's ear" much less "and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them."
Maybe next year. Until then, I'm hiding my marshmellow penguin until I'm good and ready to eat it.
Also, Evie is not allowed to touch my socks.
