tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16578353648597051862024-03-04T20:47:10.242-08:00Merry Freakin' ChristmasSince I have been allowed to meet everyone else's embarrassing ancestors, I decided it's only fair that they get some exposure to my dysfunctional family members too. This blog is here to share with you the joy of the Spangler/Rohde Christmas. We put the fun in dys-fun-ctional!
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Ho, ho, Merry Christmas, ho!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1657835364859705186.post-21713919153077066212006-12-29T06:44:00.000-08:002006-12-29T06:49:27.481-08:00A few more...My sister just remembered a couple more brilliant quotes from the festivities...<hr /><br />*Oliver (2 yrs old) grabs a cookie*<br /><br />Julia: Oliver, did you eat enough dinner to have a cookie?<br /><br />Oliver: (thinks about it) No. (walks over and gives Julia a big hug, and a kiss, then proceeds to get another cookie)<hr /><br />Courtney: I only got one B this semester, and it was a B+!<br /><br />Grandma Bev: Good for you! What class was it in?<br /><br />Courtney: English.<br /><br />Rob: Have you ever taken French? Because I could see getting a B in French. But Courtney, what language do we speak? ENG-LISH.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1657835364859705186.post-19116059959773901492006-12-27T17:50:00.000-08:002006-12-27T17:57:03.621-08:00Here's hoping...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-M-uY7oYy5GT52IOTKJqOZ4cKiH4feVJsixyg8Qel7WfJfDcIHAm524KK88nQB1OgtUr0CvPLSBKjAOf3Z7xQR2GFNJ2AU_dcfMgH73hhliI-u2VzaoQRDqMgFRhNq-ylRn20wIqaLaB4/s1600-h/1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-M-uY7oYy5GT52IOTKJqOZ4cKiH4feVJsixyg8Qel7WfJfDcIHAm524KK88nQB1OgtUr0CvPLSBKjAOf3Z7xQR2GFNJ2AU_dcfMgH73hhliI-u2VzaoQRDqMgFRhNq-ylRn20wIqaLaB4/s320/1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5013390511031895650" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX_DHSF7ggl6niI_etC5DF4Y1cgQjckVcJwW4ktvfwHJqn-mSI7w36FBleCTUJSL1ITw1Smu2UAdOQ20cLIw2uUNEHbI-xOo6GqX7Nny__BzpXOHWS9zvxvEAFLzCwYbo2ULhyphenhyphenh-McWRHX/s1600-h/2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX_DHSF7ggl6niI_etC5DF4Y1cgQjckVcJwW4ktvfwHJqn-mSI7w36FBleCTUJSL1ITw1Smu2UAdOQ20cLIw2uUNEHbI-xOo6GqX7Nny__BzpXOHWS9zvxvEAFLzCwYbo2ULhyphenhyphenh-McWRHX/s320/2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5013390635585947250" border="0" /></a><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1657835364859705186.post-62789627223505053642006-12-25T16:22:00.000-08:002006-12-25T17:03:04.155-08:00Round 2Got up at 6:30 this morning so we would have time to open presents/have breakfast/shower/etc. and get everything ready for family to come over at 12:30 to eat. The big gifts this year? My parents bought each other a new toilet, Dance Dance Revolution for my sister, and cross country skiis for me :) Oh, and Jazzi got a new bed that she is already <span style="font-style: italic;">super</span> possessive of.<p><br />All the food turned out great, and everybody loved it. My grandparents thanked us about a billion times for making it. My cousin's boyfriend Nick came too--we had never met him yet--turns out he's a professional chef. Even he said it was all great, so I guess we must have done OK!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQrIismzjCTkFLOOuk8qJQoT9lmhz1lr3pen7akdMIes3Ds1IyvwAzr55EQpOBenylNMoLelBLYCgc7Lz0ZVHUyYiuiymN1dFX0nzlB25z9rrRhXFthWnxVOxMPSjp1KIIdq1OrXlQgA-1/s1600-h/house.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQrIismzjCTkFLOOuk8qJQoT9lmhz1lr3pen7akdMIes3Ds1IyvwAzr55EQpOBenylNMoLelBLYCgc7Lz0ZVHUyYiuiymN1dFX0nzlB25z9rrRhXFthWnxVOxMPSjp1KIIdq1OrXlQgA-1/s320/house.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012630211626190402" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Here's our dining room and part of the sun porch. Great Grandma's china and silver, with paper cups. Classy!<br /><br />My dad made that stained glass light fixture.<hr /><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrl3zzJE3VHfij_FHyCNB96qxx3SahfzHV5y-wvx0N_xUtqd2175u4h07ijLkEVrILY1a7R_PWruGcKieBCdM3H_QTMgWW5XdL9BX7-OZB7aB9R4zHa7g6iakt__W5GNqqHpx34wzVS6-0/s1600-h/food.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrl3zzJE3VHfij_FHyCNB96qxx3SahfzHV5y-wvx0N_xUtqd2175u4h07ijLkEVrILY1a7R_PWruGcKieBCdM3H_QTMgWW5XdL9BX7-OZB7aB9R4zHa7g6iakt__W5GNqqHpx34wzVS6-0/s320/food.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012626440644904450" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Molasses rolls, garlic mashed potatoes (a la the Stoughton country club, made by my sister), sweet potatoes, beef roast, turkey, corn chowder...mmmm<br /><br /></p><hr /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilLCbxZ4zxpWsF0jP504JFpvZkUpfkQFDnJ_GsemvwICTach0BYCWCUuca7kbhqH76KOwEiIZtn9OUcMmW-LqfxSe17fJ3LwRaJHSGNoE8Ic6N_1-oQEOzpUhjVHJ9n9CXAcxFjHtJhpoy/s1600-h/josiah.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilLCbxZ4zxpWsF0jP504JFpvZkUpfkQFDnJ_GsemvwICTach0BYCWCUuca7kbhqH76KOwEiIZtn9OUcMmW-LqfxSe17fJ3LwRaJHSGNoE8Ic6N_1-oQEOzpUhjVHJ9n9CXAcxFjHtJhpoy/s320/josiah.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012632157246375506" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />My sister's boyfriend Josiah with the 'smashed' potatoes. He's a good kid--I approve.<br /><hr /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXuqjmDRwmJEqJPGe5TJevq-4tEC05MeMA1WFOmyS1niSqXmbxoqn9IVwk7QHjVwNLr5S656WSgK-7ihA8qg4NEQlnfVDpAA0T6KFSaHDcK64mgse6Avh0HmRNMU8BY0jqqmYfn-aIuEXq/s1600-h/chicke.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXuqjmDRwmJEqJPGe5TJevq-4tEC05MeMA1WFOmyS1niSqXmbxoqn9IVwk7QHjVwNLr5S656WSgK-7ihA8qg4NEQlnfVDpAA0T6KFSaHDcK64mgse6Avh0HmRNMU8BY0jqqmYfn-aIuEXq/s320/chicke.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012627815034439186" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />On the couch are my cousin Julia (and the twins in her tummy), and her boyfriend Nick (the chef). Their son Oliver is holding a wrapped present, which is actually a little drum. Courtney asked him what was in it and he said "a chicken!" because it looks like a drumstick :)<br /><br /><hr /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjf_Bf1PUmQifQDxFeFaA3LuWwA_q-vx5IJL5HTnFgKfimDYxYjHNUSrrCoLSj5PZ5PJR4P5GlUdAsk97VJIRqwyQBZIN5AoS_XXdIXvCSKuAUkXtKBLzyAtuMBkAxzWGNsLRiYfIoQQPP/s1600-h/ddr.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjf_Bf1PUmQifQDxFeFaA3LuWwA_q-vx5IJL5HTnFgKfimDYxYjHNUSrrCoLSj5PZ5PJR4P5GlUdAsk97VJIRqwyQBZIN5AoS_XXdIXvCSKuAUkXtKBLzyAtuMBkAxzWGNsLRiYfIoQQPP/s320/ddr.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012629434237109810" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Grandma Joy and my mom trying to play DDR--fun for the whole family!<br /><br /><hr /><br />Funny highlights? I told you this side of the family is less entertaining in the humor department. Although ever since DDR, my dad has been walking around singing "ai ai ai, I'm your little butterfly" in a female Japanese pop star voice.<p><br />I also broke my news to everyone. They were all pretty excited but grandma made sure to point out that I would probably want to come home for Christmas break next year. I said "we'll see."<p><br />So that's about it for Christmas. If we don't get some snow soon, I'm going to be skiing up and down the hallway.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1657835364859705186.post-24386362005573115742006-12-24T18:40:00.000-08:002006-12-24T19:43:54.001-08:00Round 1<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5rtV7G5OVXuxQvzu6XVWg48I2ylNy7z6-VpvlIjuDFL8fnfdiElUxbtr0S37GQPihZpT3UWzA2uXA0jSfKHA8mkwGc0ECUmu4fDsYaBPSlnHY_jo2SGOb3zfetkBQ4YrqYJi6mjudR4pj/s1600-h/Rob.jpg">*Christmas Eve Day, driving to Rob and Grace's house*</a><p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPcEJVo1UHs3OzZtVB03fTH128DoCLfuIO9xcJ9yvsJNSdg5KPIIbwKB67RsmqrptzdB0zKg5YQrvmmys5M5Q10kmHo5SKiCuROygXM7OKOmEQpXQNQzvxE48grP2O67w69oahrTYa5dMY/s1600-h/court.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPcEJVo1UHs3OzZtVB03fTH128DoCLfuIO9xcJ9yvsJNSdg5KPIIbwKB67RsmqrptzdB0zKg5YQrvmmys5M5Q10kmHo5SKiCuROygXM7OKOmEQpXQNQzvxE48grP2O67w69oahrTYa5dMY/s320/court.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012299159841981842" border="0" /></a>Courtney: Maybe tomorrow I'll go buy some yarn so I can knit a scarf.<br /><br />Dad: Well, I don't think the stores will be open tomorrow...<br /><br />Courtney: Oh my God! I totally thought today was Christmas!</p><hr /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5rtV7G5OVXuxQvzu6XVWg48I2ylNy7z6-VpvlIjuDFL8fnfdiElUxbtr0S37GQPihZpT3UWzA2uXA0jSfKHA8mkwGc0ECUmu4fDsYaBPSlnHY_jo2SGOb3zfetkBQ4YrqYJi6mjudR4pj/s1600-h/Rob.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5rtV7G5OVXuxQvzu6XVWg48I2ylNy7z6-VpvlIjuDFL8fnfdiElUxbtr0S37GQPihZpT3UWzA2uXA0jSfKHA8mkwGc0ECUmu4fDsYaBPSlnHY_jo2SGOb3zfetkBQ4YrqYJi6mjudR4pj/s320/Rob.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012301483419289074" border="0" /></a>*Courtney is talking about her classes, and Uncle Rob walks up*<br /><br />Rob: What are <span style="font-style: italic;">you</span> lookin' at?<br /><br />Courtney: The Grinch!<hr /><br />*I am telling Grandma Bev about my scholarship to Norway. Uncle Lonn walks in, I haven't seen him in at least a few months.*<br /><br />Lonn: You suck!<br /><br />Me: Thanks, Merry Christmas to you too!<hr />Ally: You are horrible people!<br /><br />Rob: Hey, around here we call that <span style="font-style: italic;">family</span>!<br /><hr /><br /><br />Me (every time anything embarrassing happened): That's it. I'm moving to Norway.<br /><br />Josh (laughing): Why?! It's cold all the time, and you can't understand half of what's coming out of their mouth!<hr /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifu0bUnhQizp4w6hYi0v7hxX9B8AVvGO-GvXVf4zmRp_PddKIGvp14cFkPIIFJ78x52iqiI2miQX1-ix-b1qQls3Y4dQDnBfYX3G9BrjDX4Fm1GI86BkZS6gf3gPikG86LmpzthVLi7gL4/s1600-h/Zac.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifu0bUnhQizp4w6hYi0v7hxX9B8AVvGO-GvXVf4zmRp_PddKIGvp14cFkPIIFJ78x52iqiI2miQX1-ix-b1qQls3Y4dQDnBfYX3G9BrjDX4Fm1GI86BkZS6gf3gPikG86LmpzthVLi7gL4/s320/Zac.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012295977271215458" border="0" /></a>*Zac walks in with a sock over the lens of his camera*<br /><br />"I...uh...may or may not have misplaced my lens cap."<br /><br /><br /><hr /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd98flFncQpLNlDPuzCX1YCGs2wOAE91mw4dV51fa_MaFOLDL2m8mxk6PtEZ6uHZFraOQUfFwKCMCQv74vZzC7bGG5HCL4b9mLTCEzH9XM1yL_uOOGswCEPyDYFWw1AnKU98jwrAFmliRS/s1600-h/sleepy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd98flFncQpLNlDPuzCX1YCGs2wOAE91mw4dV51fa_MaFOLDL2m8mxk6PtEZ6uHZFraOQUfFwKCMCQv74vZzC7bGG5HCL4b9mLTCEzH9XM1yL_uOOGswCEPyDYFWw1AnKU98jwrAFmliRS/s320/sleepy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012300736094979554" border="0" /></a>My dad, my sister, and my new cousin Kyla, who I didn't know existed until we got there today.<br /><br /><br /><br /><hr /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB8LYY8soYD2xP6QAK4HfXRx0zCbUjBhrKX4ZDXuXK1FAOBbMl7RmVzXtWwGFHgoxkRasEmJrl1xV3d6IFucrfQzf5VeXvxaojWJOymMo4CoCnf30itAJZsrL9ltXuK1DrmrxJSJK1pNfI/s1600-h/everyone.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB8LYY8soYD2xP6QAK4HfXRx0zCbUjBhrKX4ZDXuXK1FAOBbMl7RmVzXtWwGFHgoxkRasEmJrl1xV3d6IFucrfQzf5VeXvxaojWJOymMo4CoCnf30itAJZsrL9ltXuK1DrmrxJSJK1pNfI/s320/everyone.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012300508461712850" border="0" /></a>From left to right: Jayda and Aliza sitting on their mom Jesse, their dad Darren, Aunt Grace, my cousin Josh who quit his job so he can smoke pot and drink beer all day, and the one with the...interesting hairdo is Andrew, Jesse's oldest (of 5!)<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5MddGd-XOlZEsOKiPlBeVmllKMUqHiSkRRRKOtXC2qLBMEZHfmm8tCr2SmofqRzd3kMsC46xchlctuk6RtwteNpyvsGxR6a4m4RlrZXHj9OUT2Cl8qWbIQck-vIgfKZ4dX6HZJQ4MIrS1/s1600-h/lonn.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5MddGd-XOlZEsOKiPlBeVmllKMUqHiSkRRRKOtXC2qLBMEZHfmm8tCr2SmofqRzd3kMsC46xchlctuk6RtwteNpyvsGxR6a4m4RlrZXHj9OUT2Cl8qWbIQck-vIgfKZ4dX6HZJQ4MIrS1/s320/lonn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012299855626683826" border="0" /></a>Uncle Lonn...who lost his legs in the war<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><hr /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD5gReFZxGy0xCnYh_FhEjIMXmJPfwAVKhAZSKQ6jKO3OtlqzBVx0oa5xWsH136WGyW6wWUs4vhOEXiv1Q3G6HmdmlLb3r_7mvyjWGgbgCt1WRWjf04Teqziv1TT4fs4KGk28skw7Cai34/s1600-h/heil.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD5gReFZxGy0xCnYh_FhEjIMXmJPfwAVKhAZSKQ6jKO3OtlqzBVx0oa5xWsH136WGyW6wWUs4vhOEXiv1Q3G6HmdmlLb3r_7mvyjWGgbgCt1WRWjf04Teqziv1TT4fs4KGk28skw7Cai34/s320/heil.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012299507734332834" border="0" /></a>Kyla has a birthmark/tuft of hair on her forehead, and Jack thinks it makes her look like Hitler so he's trying to teach her 'heil'<br /><br /><br /><br /><hr /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifmx0AyGPMSeU9smXN35dpRN2XTQliU7NIDDv74KaH4S5WcdJpWRPFrR4WF9wVc9K5fxXaBjcX8MMkTVbM2C6pxLvPj-2wPyDnTVq4IJEq7LUWlMngyqqArot-MWFEFYoR9tyQDgBXQCm4/s1600-h/monkey.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifmx0AyGPMSeU9smXN35dpRN2XTQliU7NIDDv74KaH4S5WcdJpWRPFrR4WF9wVc9K5fxXaBjcX8MMkTVbM2C6pxLvPj-2wPyDnTVq4IJEq7LUWlMngyqqArot-MWFEFYoR9tyQDgBXQCm4/s320/monkey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012298485532116338" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfsA9VZHb6hHIgO269mP-FQPOFFbsCimpFlt8IIxoWfzhTdpXKWoqOyofsqGLKMQDVntHXUOCiCNZI8wVBQBxLRjjoRM6JIbOnYp4tvS4xALtgm5Zu-LthgilYqQHJv6rtzoBM7fIo7cS_/s1600-h/ally.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfsA9VZHb6hHIgO269mP-FQPOFFbsCimpFlt8IIxoWfzhTdpXKWoqOyofsqGLKMQDVntHXUOCiCNZI8wVBQBxLRjjoRM6JIbOnYp4tvS4xALtgm5Zu-LthgilYqQHJv6rtzoBM7fIo7cS_/s320/ally.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012298867784205698" border="0" /></a>Aliza got this really lifelike monkey for Christmas, and my cousin Ally was seriously terrified of it<br /><br /><br /><br /><hr /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5udfBn9FJWpp5dCDTSql-lyb5PQdH-HyoqIq4IoBbgsn0CdRVRL-_11N3LUTZLxTpDynCWYS_KYRFSmqej8gzNC3Ihtou_7gL_PxK8QoSdH8nEyqPTJWP_cFS4NB-jrBcDFGsdta8_9zR/s1600-h/drink.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5udfBn9FJWpp5dCDTSql-lyb5PQdH-HyoqIq4IoBbgsn0CdRVRL-_11N3LUTZLxTpDynCWYS_KYRFSmqej8gzNC3Ihtou_7gL_PxK8QoSdH8nEyqPTJWP_cFS4NB-jrBcDFGsdta8_9zR/s320/drink.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012300177749231042" border="0" /></a>Never have children--this is what it will drive you to!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1657835364859705186.post-46900199715014738492006-12-24T07:10:00.000-08:002006-12-24T07:16:15.450-08:00Christmas PreparationsAlternate title: "Top (insert # later) reasons taking Christmas into our own hands was the best idea we ever had"<p><br />(Discussing what to cook for Christmas dinner)<br /><br />Dad: "The only thing missing is..."<br /><br />Courtney: "Drinking!"<br /><br />Me: "Best Christmas ever!"<hr /><br />(Making grocery list)<br /><br />Me: Do we have allspice?<br /><br />Mom: No, but we do have vodka. I'm not having it out on the counter but you can keep it back in your room for you and Jessica.<hr /><br />Me: Hey, Court, I think we should make some punch too.<br /><br />Courtney: Spiked!?!<hr /><br />Me: Dr. Survilla's mom gave me a really great recipe for a roast.<br /><br />Megan's daddy: Chelsea's Marvelous Mean Dead Christmas Cow! Mooya!<hr /><br />Dad: We'll have to be washing our hands a lot, being around so many people. That cruise ship disease has had an outbreak in Madison this weekend.<br /><br />Me: Yeah, we don't need to add disease to mental disability with all this family time...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1657835364859705186.post-69472820137736632142006-12-24T06:38:00.000-08:002006-12-24T07:02:02.731-08:00The lowdownSo here's how Christmas normally works in our family.<br /><br />up until Christmas Eve Day: pretty much ignore each other.<p><br />Christmas Eve Day: dad's side of the family gets together at Uncle Rob's (more on him later) in Albany. This is the really dysfunctional portion of my heritage, but they're a more...how can I say...a more festive brand of crazy. Un-PC jokes that nobody wants to laugh at, screaming derelict children running around breaking things, a pilot/race car driver who looks like Santa and thinks he knows everything (and needs to tell you about it), a black-leather-wearin/Harley-ridin grandma, and a massive golden retriever named Budweiser who could take you out with one swipe of his tail. That about covers it. Expect a play-by-play in a later post.<p><br />Christmas Day: normally we go to Monroe to meet mom's side of the family. It's a lot quieter than my dad's side. Generally we get there, eat a huge meal, then my dad, my sister and I, and our three cousins make a run for the couch and pile on for a nap. Soon it is time to open presents, but we have to go from youngest to oldest, opening one present and then watching everyone else open one until it's your turn again. My dad is covertly opening his presents under the table because he can't wait for his turn, and my cousin Jessica is making 'shoot me now' gestures on the other side of the room. When we're done (what seems like 4 hours later), Uncle Whayne sets up a projector to show us a slide show of birds.<p><br />But not this year.<p><br />This year we have taken matters into our own hands. Courtney and I are cooking Christmas dinner, so everything is on our turf. Reasons for taking over? Little things. But they build up. For example, when grandma is hosting, you never get to actually eat, because as soon as some food is on your plate, she is sending the turkey around the table again. And the potatoes. And the beans...so you're always passing and all you can do is drool at the first helping that is sitting on your plate, but you can't eat it because you're passing around dishes that everyone <span style="font-style: italic;">already has on their plates</span>. Or because Christmas dinner should not require a seating chart, especially one that puts the prodigal cousin in the corner as punishment for not coming home last Christmas. Or making everyone go around the table and tell everyone what they're thankful for. Or the whole taking turns thing, when opening presents.<p><br />None of that this year. We are whipping up some amazing food, and serving it up buffet style. That means everyone can take as much as they want, and if they need more, they can get off their ass and get it, instead of everyone else taking pause from their face-stuffing to pass things. And you know what else? Everyone can sit where they damn well please. Plus we don't have a room big enough to fit everyone in it, so everyone has the option of escaping to the sunroom or living room.<p><br />So that's the story. Stay tuned.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0