Happy Holidays!
I feel festive.
I know it won't last.
So, I'm enjoying it while I can.
I made my Sweet Baboo watch Fiddler on the Roof to celebrate Hanukkah.
He was asleep for 3/4th's of the movie.
That's okay.
He didn't see me cry during the sad parts.
Now, I have to pay him back by watching all 350 hours of Dune with him.
I know it doesn't really last that long.
Just feels like it.
I told Daddy we were having Christmas at his house.
I was afraid he was going to pitch a fit.
Instead, he made my son go out with him to drag out a box of lights that had been put away since 1968!
Honestly.
There have been safety issues addressed since those lights were bought.
My son said it was teeming with roaches, silverfish, and spiders.
He developed a stigma, now.
He said it was like on Billy the Exterminator.
He's afraid he has botulism, now.
I just hope Daddy hasn't put up the lights while we're gone and burned down the house.
Cause he'll turn it all around and make it all my fault.
And I most certainly hope he didn't bring that infested box in the house.
Because that would cancel Christmas!
I'd never go back there again!
Ever!
We'll see him later this evening.
I just hope that it isn't too much time for him to be alone and do something he's not supposed to.
I had gone to my Sweet Baboo's to discuss the holidays.
He said he would make a standing rib roast.
I told him I'd take care of the sides and desserts.
For Christmas eve I'll make a few quiches- we Catholics aren't supposed to have meat until after midnight.
And I'll also go buy a Honeybaked ham- we Catholics don't always do what we're supposed to do.
That's why we Catholics also have confession and redemption.
We're all only human.
But while we were sitting at the table and going over everything, he was staring at me, and I yelled at him to stop staring at me or I was gonna jab his eyeballs with my fork- we were eating dinner.
He completely ignored my threat and told me that he had always thought I was beautiful, even back in high school.
This he told me right when fettuccine was flapping out the corner of my mouth and I was drooling pesto.
Then, he apologized for being stupid when we were teenagers, because he never said or did anything to let me know how he felt about me.
He was just always afraid that if he had, I would reject him.
I told him he was supposed to chase after me- I wanted to run away- like Grannie in Bugs Bunny when Yosemite Sam chased her around the house when he came a-courting.
I wanted to reject him again and again.
It was my right!
As a female- it was my right and privilege.
And then, when he'd stop...I would be able to go after him and throw myself at him.
But I wanted to be sure that he meant it.
Oh, well...in any case... I already knew how he felt.
I'd always known.
I wasn't always exactly 100% sure... but sure enough to bet on it.
Which I did.
And won.
So I didn't stab him with my fork.
Not yet.