Fred worked so many hours Monday through Thursday last week, that he had enough time banked to take Friday off. So he did! And what’s even better is that he’s got a three-day weekend this weekend and next, as well. The company he works for is pretty awesome, and let their employees take Christmas Eve through New Year’s Day off. (Fred, however, thought ahead and asked if it’s allowable to bank the holiday time he doesn’t take, so he can use it during the year next year – and it’s allowable, so he’ll be taking Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve off from work, but working Monday through Friday.)
So we didn’t do much on Friday but hang out around the house. At one point we did go out into the blue coop (the one that will eventually be turned into a kitten coop) and took the nest boxes apart. He did the taking apart, and I hauled the wood away.
At some point Friday, he got an email at some point from his company – an email sent to all the employees – letting them know that the company had done so well through the year that everyone was getting a bonus.
Now, Fred really doesn’t spend money on himself. Everything he spends tends to be for the garden or something for the chickens or dogs. It was my opinion that he should use the bonus to buy something for himself. He’s been talking for a long time about buying a Wii or Xbox 360, and he hemmed and hawed about what to do with the money. Which is funny, because I could think of about 35 things to do, and I started listing them. “We could use the bonus to finish out the kitten coop.” and “We could use some of the bonus to buy a new garden wagon (since this one has shit the bed).” and “We could buy more wood to make platforms for the cats in the front room.” and so on.
Finally – probably to shut me the hell up – Fred declared that he wanted an Xbox 360. Saturday morning we got up earlyish, and headed for Walmart. He started browsing the games, and I wandered over to the book section, then the pet section, then to the craft section, and then back to check on Fred. He picked out several games, and I looked through them, but nothing looked terribly appealing to me. If there’d been a Super Mario Brothers, I would have been all over that (I kicked ASS at Super Mario Brothers on my ex-husband’s old Nintendo), or if there’d been Ms. Pac Man or Frogger, I would have gone for that. But nothing interested me, and so we just got some boring looking war game type games for Fred.
(I should add that the extent of my game-playing consists of playing a few games of Snood on my iPod before bed. I’ve never been much of a game player.)
So, we got the Xbox and the games, bought a Kitty Kube for the Bradys, and then headed for the grocery section of the store. We usually get our Saturday morning groceries at Publix, but since we were already at Walmart and didn’t need much, we grabbed what we needed.
I was having a sudden craving for Heavenly Hash ice cream, because Fred had just said something about it a few days earlier, and I walked slowly up the ice cream aisle looking for it. I didn’t see it, but I did see Rocky Road, so I grabbed that. Then I saw a carton of Heavenly Hash, but it was yogurt rather than ice cream. I was pretty sure that Heavenly Hash and Rocky Road were about the same flavor of ice cream, so I held the Breyer’s Rocky Road in one hand and grabbed the Purity Heavenly Hash in the other, to compare ingredients.
“They’re about the same thing,” I said. When it comes down to it, if I’m going to eat ice cream I want ice cream not frozen yogurt, so I was about to put the frozen yogurt back when the Purity guy who’d been stocking nearby stepped forward.
“That’s really good,” he said, indicating the frozen yogurt.
“Oh?” I said uncomfortably. I hate it when the representative for one company is standing there and I buy from another company altogether – and now that he was offering up an opinion, I was doubly uncomfortable. (If the Pepsi guy is stocking in the soda aisle, I’ll skip that aisle until I’ve done all my other shopping, and if he’s still there when I’m done with my other shopping, unless I’m down to my last bottle of Diet Coke, I’ll just put off buying Diet Coke for a later day. I feel like it sends the “I have tried your Pepsi, and find it – AND THUS, YOU – lacking” message. I know chances are good that they don’t CARE, or possibly they’ve learned to live with the pain, but I never claimed I wasn’t a neurotic weirdo.)
“Blah blah blah,” he said. (Not literally “blah blah blah”, but I don’t remember what words of praise he had for the frozen yogurt).
“Hmm,” I said, attempting to look like I was truly considering his words of wisdom. Then he turned away to answer his phone, I tossed the frozen yogurt back in the freezer, and hauled ass out of that aisle.
We headed for the checkout. By this point, the store had started to get pretty damn busy, and we started out standing in one line, and then moved to another. The line moved pretty quickly, fortunately (see: Fred And3rson, exceedingly impatient), and the cashier rang up our stuff. The checkout process ground to a halt when she rang up the Xbox, then stepped away from her register to grab something, and then swiped a card and then swiped it again.
“I don’t know what’s going on right now,” Fred said apologetically to the couple standing in line behind us. “I’m sorry.”
The woman laughed. “That’s okay, we’re not in a hurry!”
I glanced to see what they were buying, and saw a pile of Christmas candy, some paper cups and plates, plastic forks and spoons.
“You get a gift card with your purchase,” the cashier announced. She swiped the card one more time, and then handed it to Fred.
” I guess I can’t use that to pay for the Xbox?”
The cashier shook her head. “It’s for seventy-five dollars,” she added.
The woman standing in line behind us exclaimed appreciatively. “That’s nice!” she said. “You should pay for our stuff, too!” She winked at Fred so he would know she was kidding. Then she looked down at her pile of candy and felt constrained to add that she was buying it for her church.
“I’ll take that!” I said, grinning and snatching the card from Fred’s hand and putting it in my purse.
The cashier and the lady behind us laughed.
While the rest of our purchases were scanned and bagged, Fred and I had a quick discussion. Fred paid for our purchases. The cashier handed Fred his receipt and thanked him. Fred thanked her, and handed the receipt to me.
I handed him the gift card, he turned and gave it to the lady standing behind us, said “Merry Christmas!”, and we got the hell out of there before she could get all “I couldn’t!”
I glanced back once on our way out the door to see her standing there, staring after us, mouth hanging open.
Now, that? That, my friends, has put me in the Christmas spirit for realz.
The other things that have put me in the Christmas spirit: all the great cards I’ve gotten from y’all (pictures of them later this week, hopefully), the glass of eggnog I had yesterday (I drink 1 or 2 cups of (nonalcoholic) eggnog every year around this time, and I’m all set ’til the next year), and the cookies I baked on Thursday – I did a batch of Chocolate Peanut Butter sandwiches, a batch of Secret Kiss cookies, and a batch of Cooking Light Chocolate Chip cookies, only instead of chocolate chips, I used red and green M&Ms. They were all really good, but 99% of them went out in the mail as gifts. Those that didn’t go into MAH MOUTH, that is.
I need to make some more cookies this week for Fred’s mother and stepfather (we don’t exchange gifts with his parents, but his mother blindsided us last year with a tin of cookies, so THIS year we’re going to blindside HER with a tin of cookies AND some jars of jam. SO THERE. Then next year she’ll blindside us with a pony, and we’ll have to blindside her with a house, then she’ll blindside us with a small island, and we’ll have to give her a nation, etc etc. You know how it goes.) and get some cash from the bank for his niece and nephew (who are also getting jams from us – they like the hot stuff. Fred’s mother does not.), and I’ll be done.
Also putting me into the Christmas mood:
I can’t help it, I love the holy hell out of that song. And hippopotamuses like me toooooooooooooooooo!
Now I need to go look for “Do They Know it’s Christmas”, because it’s not truly Christmas time ’til I hear Bono’s overwrought “Well, tonight thank god it’s them instead of youuuuuuuu!”
“Lady, hey. Lady. LADY! Pet me?”
“Is Greg Brady gonna have to cut a bitch?”
Sweet miss Marcia.
Pretty, pretty Peter.
I had hoped to get the Bradys in for their spaying and neutering this week, but Cindy refuses to get her tiny little butt over the two pound mark, so I’m going to put it off ’til next week. There’s not any rush to get them done right now, anyway.
Saturday afternoon, we closed the half-door across the end of the hallway and let the Bradys free to roam down the hallway into the bathroom and my bedroom. They think it’s pretty neat to have all that room to run. Even better, Jake and Elwood can jump over the door to visit. Elwood’s mostly interested in eating their food, but Jake likes little kittens. And the little kittens seem to like them, too. Miz Poo seems to find them somewhat entertaining – she stayed upstairs after I closed the door, and the several times I asked her if she wanted out of the upstairs, she just ignored me. Corbie, Reacher, and Rhyme all visited with the little ones, as well.
Jake was drinking out of their water bowl Sunday morning, and Jan spotted him. She crawled over to him on her belly, then rolled onto her back and gave him the Eyes of Love until he walked away. He mostly ignored her, but I know a kitten in love when I see one!
Hello, sweet Corbie McGee.
Rhyme just has no fear. He sees a cat, he climbs in for a snuggle. Hard to believe Miz Poo put up with this – it’s always a photo opportunity when Miz Poo allows another cat within five inches of her. Rhyme’s no dummy – he waited ’til she was sound asleep to climb in.
Keeping an eye on Sugarbutt, who looked like he might be up for some kitten smackin’.
Smilin’ Joe keeps an eye on Sugarbutt, who tries to figure out WHY there are so many pairs of shoes on the bookcase. (Answer: because that’s where I put them to keep them up off the floor and out of the way. STOP JUDGING ME, SUGGIE.)
Previously
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: (Also, I loves me some environment and cares tons about the world I leave behind for my child and grandchildren blah blah blah.)
2006: I wonder how often dental patients go into a screaming rage and get violent with dental hygienists, because I certainly feel the impulse every time I have my teeth cleaned.
2005: Also, if Hollabackness is a desired state of being, how do I go about achieving it?
2004: Apparently she’s a princess now.
2003: Three things.
2002: My shit list.
2001: Emailing gets me all excited.
2000: I sure whine about the weather a lot, don’t I?
1999: Disaster averted!