Skrip - tyur' - i - ent: adj. Possessing the violent desire to write.


#113 In which our hero survives -- and even enjoys -- Christmas.

Christmas has come and gone, and all was well. Presents were opened, meals were eaten, football in front of a blazing fire was enjoyed. Some highlights:

Christmas Eve service

Our pastor who, quite frankly, is a tad more pushy then we care for, convinced us to participate in the service. Our job, as a family, was to light the "Jesus candle." Now, I had zero religious upbringing as a kid, and The Scientist was raised a strict Catholic (they who do not go for touchy-feeling things like "Jesus candles") so we really had no idea what we'd be doing.

Our "script" was dropped off at the house that morning. In it, I was to do a reading (Isaiah 9:2-7, for those who care), then The Scientist was to read a thing of about 100 words, then the little girl and I were to light the candle.

After The Scientist read it, we had a conversation that went something like this:
THE SCIENTIST: Did you see our script?
ME: Yeah?
TS: Did you see my part?
ME: Yeah?
TS: I'm not doing it.
ME: You're not doing it.
TS: Nope.
ME: Why not?
TS: You know I don't like this stuff!
ME: What? Speaking in public?
TS: Yes!
ME: It's not that big a deal. You just have to read what's on the paper. And you can read fine.
TS: I'm not doing it.
And she didn't. I handled all the reading parts, and she and Lily lit the candle. If anyone noticed our deviation from the script, it didn't get back to us.

Christmas Eve candles

In addition to the "Jesus candle," the service ended with the lights being turned down and everyone lighting a small, hand-held candle. Lily -- who, remember, is two -- got ahold of one of these things, and would not give it up. So, when the fire came around, we lit her up.

I should also mention that she insisted that I hold her.

So, I'm holding this 35lb. kid in one hand, a lit candle of my own in the other, and she is waving around her candle like it's a sparkler. This provoked three thoughts in my head, in this order:
  1. Lord, please don't let her catch my hair on fire
  2. Does giving my 2-year-old a burning candle make me a bad father?
  3. I wonder if someone will report me to child services for this?
But instead of igniting her father, she spent the moment blowing out the candle and saying, "Happy Birthday, Jesus!" Then she'd make me re-light her, only to repeat the process.

Like I said, I'm not that religious, but holy crap that was cute. I hope she doesn't miss me when she's in heaven and I'm stuck in hell with her mother.


I got Sports Night - the Complete Series Boxed Set! Thanks girls!

I got a chest freezer! Thanks, Mom!

I got ST:TNG season III! The best part of this might be that I requested season I, but my brother-in-law was geek enough to say, "Eh, season I and II kinda sucked, I went right to the season with the Borg." Thanks, Chris!

I got a big-ass soup tureen that matches my china pattern. Does it make me gay that I both know the pattern of our dishes and that I was really excited to get another matching piece? Thanks Dick and Barbara!

I got a cool digital kitchen scale! Which doesn't work. Sorry, Tracy and Mike!

And I got some other odds and ends, all in all, a nice haul.

The car

The Scientist and I wanted to get Lily a play kitchen for Christmas. Unfortunately, we waited until just about the last possible shopping day to get one, only to find that all the stores were sold out. I was at work, so The Scientist made a command decision to buy this, instead.

And just for the record, it's not nearly as metallic-looking as they make it seem in the photos.

Anyway, I was more than a little bummed that she couldn't find a kitchen, and more than a little pissed that she bought something else without checking with me, first. But, in The Scientist's defense, it was last minute, and she was scared that if she waited, we'd end up getting our eldest daughter NOTHING for Christmas. So.

But, of course, Lily LOVED the car, and I looked like a big dick for ever doubting my wife's decisions. And, just so there's no confusion, let me say:


Now, can you stop giving me that smug look every time our daughter gets in her new car?


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