Years ago, my friend Anna posted a photo on her blog that featured a mug that was so beautiful I instantly emailed her to say “!!!!” She told me where I could find them, but they were really expensive and only available in a 4-pack, which was sadly incompatible with my desire to not spend a fortune on mugs, plus the general structure of my mug collection, which could be described as “way too many mugs, but only one of each”. A couple of weeks ago, I saw those same mugs on Zulily, and they had one colour (brown) available as a single mug! It was not as beautiful as the pink ones that Anna has, but even so, I think the amount of time that elapsed between seeing the mug and clicking the Submit button on my purchase was maybe about 30 seconds. I picked my mug up at the post office this morning, and they sent me … more than one. SIX! I don’t need six mugs (Mike, who regularly laments the crowded state of our mug cupboard when he unloads the dishwasher, would say I don’t even need ONE mug, but he could not be more wrong) so I am trying to figure out what to do with them. I have had incorrect shipments from Zulily before, and their response is always just to keep the wrong item, so I doubt they would want them back even if I offered. Luckily it is the Christmas season. I kind of feel like Oprah. You get a mug! And you get a mug! And you get a mug!
I saw the most epic pile-on on our little town’s Facebook group the other day, all in the name of Christmas spirit, and I still feel a bit bewildered and sad about it. Someone who lives on our block has a rather festive display of flashing Christmas lights accompanied by music, and the owners of that house apparently got a complaint via the township’s bylaw enforcement office, at which point they posted on the Facebook group to … I’m not really sure. Complain? Try to find out who made the complaint? Garner support for their light display? At any rate, it really quickly devolved (as things on the internet tend to do) into some sort of holiday-themed madness. Over the course of just a few hours, there were 50+ comments, half of which expressed their delight/enjoyment of the lights, and half of which called the anonymous complainant nasty names and even said things like whoever it was clearly wasn’t born here (there is a long history of animosity here between people who grew up in our town and people who didn’t, so I hope that was what was intended, because that is just xenophobic rather than actually racist) and doesn’t DESERVE to LIVE in our tiny town (a town which, it should be noted, claims on the sign on the main street to be “The Friendly Town!”). The nastiest comments all seemed to mention the anonymous person’s evident lack of Christmas spirit, the irony of which seemed to escape everyone. I can’t stop thinking about it. I stepped in at one point because I felt like I needed to stick up for the little guy (even though I don’t know who the little guy is – for all I know, he or she really IS a jerk) but that mostly fell on deaf ears.
We had Zach at the ER last weekend for what turned out to be a really nasty case of croup. That is an experience I would rather not repeat. I had always heard croup was a bad barky cough, but what we experienced sounded very much like a baby who really couldn’t breathe, so I am grateful for a relatively close hospital and oral steroids and for the ability to just swipe his health card and receive whatever treatment we need and never ever receive a bill afterward. This baby, though. NICU stay! Pneumonia! Croup! It is not good for the nerves.
We bought a copy of How the Grinch Stole Christmas (the animated version narrated by Boris Karloff, not the decidedly inferior live-action version starring Jim Carrey) and Ellie has been quite taken with it, although she refers to him as the “brunch” rather than the “Grinch” which certainly makes the story seem a lot less menacing, doesn’t it? Scary green guy with heart two sizes too small breaks into homes in Whoville to replace Christmas trees and stockings with mimosas and French toast and hashbrown casserole!