No Christmas Tree, No Christmas Tree...

The kids had a great Christmas morning and I took all sorts of lovely photos of their wonder, joy and excitement as they opened their gifts, saw the big dollhouse and one of those cars you can actually drive (both compliments of angels in the neighborhood) but I can't view them or share them because I don't have them due to them being on my brother's camera that I stole right after this photo was snapped.

Stealing aside, I would like to point out that I actually purchased a new Christmas and Easter blouse. After three years of wearing my lovely periwinkle one in all of the holiday photos, I couldn't tell which year it was when I looked at the pictures as I am apparently ageless thanks to new camera technology. Fortunately, I can tell which photos are last year's as a little Chinese child began appearing with us at that time. Also, given my ego, I figured that royal purple suited me so I went out and found some.

So, I think I stole his camera because it was silver. As it isn't the same size as mine or the same brand, I must assume I took it because my brother negligently left it near the door. Or it could have been my lack of sleep for several days getting ready for the big event.

Now, I could have taken his card out and downloaded the pictures but then I thought about it. What if he had some of "those" kind of photos on it? Was I up to seeing his birthmark once again? Made the prudent decision. Hopefully, they'll send me a disk.

GPS, Where art thou?

Well, got a GPS for Christmas and will begin using it as soon as I can locate it. I have apparently "put it in a safe place" which, in my home, is liberally interpreted to mean, "don't have a frigging clue what I did with the thing, when I did it, why I did it or why I am now blaming you and/or the cat for moving it in a malicious manner."

Now, I believe I should have also asked for one of those clap-on, clap-off things. Would have been a good thing to attach to a bell and then to the GPS. Would make it a complete package for those of us who are, shall we say, a bit directionally challenged. Now, given that I often temporarily misplace full size cars in large parking lots, solely as a method of getting in my daily exercise I might add, this temporary confusion should not and does not come as a surprise to me, anyone who knows me or the cat.

The GPS does have this real cool feature called "Where am I?" that I believe I paid a bit more to get. I was quite jazzed about it, I recall. But, it's not like the device is going to phone its location in to me, now is it? Who cares if it knows where the heck it is?

Somewhere, there is an 18-year-old GPS engineer laughing his buttocks off because he invented the "Where am I" useless feature and probably got a royalty when I purchased the same. He's probably at MIT. I'd go visit the punk to ask him just what was he thinking but, of course, that would require an ability to find the place using something like, let's say for example, a GPS. I'm thinking the kid is safe.

Instructions May Change at any Time?

Just got a new computer monitor. I'm taking an educated guess that it wasn't made in the States. The give away is the fabulous instructions which address issues that American made producers apparently haven't thought of. For example, these helpful hints, clearly printed as a hard copy on real paper and in black and white, unequivocally state right at the beginning "Instructions may change at any time".

I'm sleep deprived right now but if I'm telling you - if those printed directions suddenly change into the Christmas story or a missive on the grazing habits of llamas vs. alpacas, I'm calling in the exorcist. It's just that simple.

These directions, sadly, do not address the question of how to use the product while sleeping like my "nearly flat screen" Broksonic television manual did. To wit, it instructed, "To watch television while sleeping, ......" Apparently, I am a bit deficient in television watching skills as I have, so far, only been able to manage the task while awake.

I do admire the marketing folks that determined that a conventional television could be sexed up by calling it a "nearly flat screen." They have my kudos and now I believe I will use this technique without further attribution as my own going forward. Awesome technique really. For example, bra size? "nearly Pamela Anderson" Yep, sounds like a winner.

I Dint Know He Could Write..

So, my darling son has learned to write. In sentences apparently. His spelling was a tad off but he wrote me the most heartwarming note yesterday. On his V-Tech Computer. Unfortunately, in the technical age, I couldn't file it away for posterity in a memory box although I sure wanted to. I did think about filing the entire V-Tech. For good.

We had been in the kitchen making cookies. The kind he likes - he's the first born son so of course I got him those little reindeer in a cookie things put out by Pillsbury that you throw on a cookie sheet, pop in the oven and then call them done. My kind of a togetherness project. But, as it is also the Christmas season, we set up shop and commenced baking our annual Peruvian Alphahores - a traditional Peruvian cookie. Now, Alphahores does not translate into "Peruvian cookie made in Alpharetta," No, it is actually an old Peruvian word for "you won't believe how much time and effort this is going to take ."

So, after the reindeer cookies had been done for an hour or so, I told the son he could not have a 4th or 5th cookie at that current time as he had not eaten anything else that day and, when his father got home, he would query him on how many cookies he had eaten. If he were to tell the truth, as is his fashion, I might be in the mix again. He appealed, using some pretty good logic but I still said no. So, he went into his play room.

A couple of minutes go by and he comes walking in with his V-Tech computer where he has written me a love note by typing it. I quickly shook off the powdered sugar I was wallowing in to excitedly read what he had written. As he has told me he wants to be a book writer, I knew this was his seminal moment and he needed my full attention and prideful support. Wow, this was apparently the beginning of his career and I would be instrumental in it.

He turned it around so I could see it and asked if I could read what he had written. I was so proud and I leaned in to see "I DINT LIVE MOM". Of course, the son was a tad concerned that he had spelled all of the words correctly. Could I please read it to him? I took a WAG at it and said, " I don't love mom?". Yes, he exclaims with excitement!! He told me he was proud I got it. Then, he asks, would I be so kind as to stop right in the middle of what I was doing to let him know if his spelling was all correct? Apparently, it was quite important to him at this stage to make sure that his writing is technically proficient. So, as the fabulous parent that I am and high on the sugar of at least 10 or so cookies and a whole lot of Diet Dr. Pepper, it seemed like a reasonable thing to do at the time.

However, a little later in the evening as I sat in the middle of a powdered sugar pile and reflected on life, the batteries in the V-Tech somehow just ran out. Odd how that happens. Guess that's what they mean by reindeer games. Next year, I'm thinking it's a big no on the Pillsbury cookies. Geez.

Laundry Tip of the Day

So I decide to wash a pair of socks by hand to wear the next day. Two major reasons- first, they are extra special socks (which means I paid full price and they have a neat pattern) and second, I coulnd't find any others in the house that were simultaneously clean and also had a mate. This is a tall order in my home.

So, I get up in the morning, tired as heck, and the socks aren't quite dry. However, due to my very inventive nature, I know all I have to do is to stick them on the end of the hair dryer and turn the thing on. Hot air works every time. And, it worked fine for sock number one. For sock number two, I looked at the sock as it inflated and begin to wonder if there was any way possible to just shoot the thing off the hair dryer by pressing a bunch of buttons on the dryer.

Now, I can't figure out any reason why I would ever need to shoot socks, nor why it sounded like a good idea to invent a sock shooter at 6:30 a.m. but my conjecture is that since I had not yet had any caffeine it was a reasonable thought. Or, I should have been an engineer. So, I tried it for a while. The turbo button just didn't do the trick nor did turning it off and on which I'm sure my still sleeping family appreciated. It did, however, melt my sock onto the hair dryer as well as put a hole in the side.

Of course, I peeled it off to see if I could still wear it to work which would save me the effort of having to go on a household sock hunt to find a pair of socks that matched and were clean. Unfortuantely it was too crispy at the top and the hole just got bigger and bigger. Cost me about 15 minutes total.