After three Manhattans - one of my favorite drinks and hard to lay off on the eve - I was relegated to the task of putting together a wagon shipped to us via the Michigan grandparents. A prior conversation with MI Grandpa left me with the impression that the wagon would require only minor assembly. Not so - and I think intentional on his part. He wanted to share with me the infinite pleasure of slapping together toys for small children into the wee hours on the Christmas eve with mediocre directions.
Parts everywhere, none too few cuss words and an hour and a half later, we had the wagon. The end result? The kids played with the 1.5 dollar stocking stuffers all AM. Did they touch the fucking wagon? Not one iota.
I think this thing is going on Ebay. Should be worth more already assembled, no?
It makes me think once again, what's the true meaning of Christmas? Hugs from your kids and smiles to shouts of "Santa Came - Come Look Daddy!"
May all your Christmas wishes be granted.
One more question for the blogisphere. What, to you, is the true meaning of Christmas? Leave a comment and Blog on all. Blog on.