Christmas

Today is Christmas, and you know what that means in the Spaeth household. Yes, turkey wrangling!

I did okay this time. Found all the horrendously icky bits (though I had to dig around to find the aptly named "package"--it was in the, uh, other end if you get my drift), dispatched them to the trash, and got the turkey in the oven.

Then I merrily did some dishes, sang some carols to myself, talked myself out of an early glass of wine and settled for coffee from my brand-new Keurig (Merry Christmas, Janet!), and did a time check.

Heart stop.

3:52??? How did that happen? What did I do with the day? I know I read the paper but honestly, I'm a fast reader. Did the puzzle (crossword, that is--abandoned the Sudoku), brushed my cat--how did that consume the entire day?

Then I realized that on my new stove, the timer takes over the clock. 3:52 meant 3 hours and 52 minutes til the turkey was done. It was only really something like 1:00.

I was telling Music Guy about this, and he pointed out that if I'd watched the clock on the stove, I would have seen time going backwards! 3:52, 3:51, 3:50.... I would probably have put down the coffee and found that bottle of wine (no glass--bottle!).

Now, for a story of Christmas Past. I put this on Facebook, but I like the story so much I'm telling it here too.

I was 2 or 3, and it was almost Christmas. My mom was just getting ready to plunk me in the bath when the phone rang. My dad answered it.

"Janet, it's Santa!"

I tore into the living room, totally naked, took the phone from Dad, and said, "Santa, I don't have any clothes on!"

Santa laughed and my mom nearly fainted because....

It was a spot from the radio station, and we were live, and I had just announced it to all of Grand Island, Nebraska.

Yes, we moved shortly after that. To another state.

Merry Christmas, all!