Christmas Cheer

What an eventful Christmas this has been...

We were up a little after 6:30, and I could tell before I ever got out of bed that there'd be a long winter's nap catching up with me sometime today.

Santa was very, very good to me. I reaped a whirlwind of stuff. The least expensive presents--including a couple in my stocking--were some of the best. For instance: unscented deodorant.

Several years ago, I received by way of my stocking something like seven sticks of unscented deodorant. I couldn't help but feel a bit chastened: was somebody trying to tell me I stink? Since then, I've found deodorant in every stocking, a year's supply thereof. I've been assured my body odour is no worse than the next fellow's, and so I've come to appreciate the gesture. Because finding unscented deodorant, in these latter Axe days, is becoming increasingly difficult. In fact, the last few stores I've scouted through don't bother to stock any brand of it at all.

Which surprises me, to be honest. It seems like at least half the population is allergic to some scent or other, after all. And I've never been able to wear anything colognial or deodorific without smelling like a polecat in heat in very short order. Surely I'm not the only one.

Another simple, incredibly appreciated present: slippers. Good slippers; Ken-slippers. I've had eleventy-dozen pairs of slippers in my life, and maybe three of them have been anywhere near this good. My definition of decent slippers: ones I can't kick off in the course of taking three steps. And you'd be surprised at how many pairs of slippers fail that simple test. I need the slipper equivalent of highback shoes, and they don't exist. How all you normal people manage to walk around in slippers with no back at all escapes me. I can only do it if I clench my toes, and then I feel like I'm gonna crap.
Now if only somebody would come up with a pair of underwear built to stay around my waist, I'd be a happy, happy man.

Then there's our family present: Georgia. We went to get her shortly after nine this morning and she's done remarkably well in a very short period of time. There've been a couple of little 'accidents', one of which damn near boweled me over (my God, puppy-poop is beyond rank), but she's also done her thing outside at least twice. And Tux has taken to her very well, all things considered. He's a tad possessive with his toys (and he's developed a sudden interest in rubber Kong-like toys since he saw Georgia playing with one), but he's even let her play with his cow ( a gift from wonderful Auntie Mindy) and his Christmas-puppy (a gift from wonderful Auntie Suzie).
When we first got her home, it became apparant rather quickly that the Christmas tree was an object of fascination for our wee girl. So we shut her in her kennel (bought originally for Tux, and shortened especially for Georgia by the aforementioned wonderful Auntie Suzie). Well, now, she didn't like that at all. I have never in my life heard such an infernal racket issue from something that tiny. Nope, I thought. Nothing wrong with the lungs on that one. She kept it up nonstop for the fifteen minutes or so it took us to dismantle the tree and stow it. Truth be told, I'm a tad worried about the noise she'll make over the next few weeks, when we're not home. But then, the dogs next door bark incessantly...maybe they'll play off each other.
The rest of the day was spent romping around the living room, making sure we kept her in sight at all times. Before retiring for the night, we tuckered her out real good, stowed her in what was once a cat carrier, and put her next to our bed, with Eva's T-shirt and a ticking clock to simulate her mom's heartbeat.
She fell asleep pretty much instantly. We'll see if she's up at one or two in the morning.

I will have pictures, taken with the digital camera that was under the tree this morning, as soon as we get it up and running.

There were many other physical gifts today, but the best of them was the lack of something: no more cigarettes for Eva. I told her she could have bought me the square root of frig-all, quit smoking, and that alone would have made my Christmas.

I hope your Christmas was as joyful as ours. Merry Christmas to all, and to all...

...a good night.