Merry Christmas - Now Pass Me My Puns...

It's been a rough couple of days out in my neck of the woods. Boo has been facing a worrisome health scare (he is fine), my dad's new teeth make him puke and I fell on my ass in front of a bunch of handsome men, and not one of them volunteered to pick my sorry ass up off the ground. Not only did I bruise my pride, but my ego took a beating too.

Then there was the Christmas concert from hell for Fric. An hour and a half of listening to grades six, seven and eight students butcher various Christmas melodies. It was like listening to a cat screech - in stereo, for a really long time. And the school didn't provide liquor to dull the pain.

The next day was the concert for my son Frac. His class had a lovely performance and the only butchered melody at this school was when the grade three's whipped out their recorders. I, however, wept like a grieving war bride when they trotted out the kindergarteners for their class production. Most people chuckled and laughed at the requisite fidgeting, butt scratching and nose picking, but I couldn't stem the flow of tears when they started singing "Away in A Manger."

Bug was supposed to be in that Kindergarten class this year.

Sigh.

But the shopping is done, the gifts are wrapped and the only Christmas task I have left to perform is to supervise the assembly of the gingerbread house tonight. While not getting frustrated because I can't get the walls to stand up and stick together. Of course, it will probably help if I didn't supervise while slightly tipsy, but where's the fun in that?

I'm signing off on a holiday break now. I plan on spending the next few days alternating between various stages of drunken debauchery, and full on crying. Perhaps both at the same time. I have already stocked up on the red wine and the kleenex.

I will be back sometime after boxing day. Hung over, I'm sure, and loaded with embarrassing tales of Christmas woes.

Until then, have a Merry Christmas everyone!

Unlike my children, I believe in quality over quantity (with the exception of alcoholic beverages) so as my Christmas gift to you, I dug up a fabulously stinky pun for my friends.

Enjoy the cheese!



And like a little gift found in the toe of your stocking, I give you this:

Who hides in the pantry at Christmas time?

A mince spy.


HO!HO!HO!