A 15 Foot Blow-Up Santa Would Complete My Life

A snow globe the size of my living room would also ensure that I'd be living heaven on earth. I can't imagine anything more important, or beautiful. Unless you are single and therefore can't enjoy any of that. If no one is there to kiss you at midnight on December 31 and it has nothing to do with herpes sores around your mouth, then Kay Jewelers doesn't recognize your existence. 

I'm very lucky. I have a fantastic, truly FANTASTIC husband, but he's a lot of work. He can't help it, he's a man. He just naturally uses the bathroom like he is in a men's prison and the rival gang to his gang is the gang that cleans the bathroom. He's smart, funny, interesting, talented, cute and has a rare disorder that causes him to lose every food container we own. There's no cure for that, we just have to buy another set of pyrex. Tragic.

I can't remember what I did last new year's eve, but I have a great memory for the things my husband does wrong. I practically have a Dewey Decimalized card-catalogue in my brain for that stuff. One of my favorite Chinese writers refers to marriage as a fortress besieged because everyone inside wants to safely escape without their home going up in flames and everyone outside desperately wants in. No matter how much you love someone, after a while, it's really easy to rag your partner about everything they do wrong because you know they can't leave you. Don't worry, he's not a cowering wallflower, otherwise I'd have a lemur and we'd be in Argentina right now, plus he rags me, too. Like, a lot.

We're feeling festive and grateful these days. To lure Santa to our house, we painted the blood of elves on our door and have been eating cookies at every meal. That's how you get him to bring you stuff, right?

Happy Hanukkah!

"Gluten Free" Will Be Mentioned In My Suicide Note

The holidays are a tough time for sensitive stomachs. I made it through Thanksgiving ok because I don't like gravy or stuffing, but it was a bummer missing out on 5 different kinds of pie. I shamed the pilgrims in their graves, I'm sure.

Hanukkah is a fun family favorite for me. When I was little, my dad and my aunt would hide gifts for my brother and I around our home or my aunt's apartment that we'd have to find to open. Pulling a plastic Rainbow Brite doll out from under a sofa is one of my happiest memories. When we got older, succumbing to the inevitability that teenagers don't like anything, my father hid colored envelopes full of money around the house for us to find. Wishing to recreate the magic of my youth, I conned my husband into hunting for $3 around our apartment yesterday morning. I'd clue him with "hot" or "cold" when he got close to my purse until, after about two minutes, he decided he didn't want the extra cup of coffee that badly. Party pooper.

The best part of my holiday? We have a baby at the table for the first time in fifteen years. I'm no longer the messiest or loudest eater. He claps, laughs, wears cute clothes and grabs for things nobody wants him to touch. It's really fun. Almost everyone I know got on that baby train this year. I still really like giving them back after about two hours. That first cranky whine, or whiff of poo and I'm ready to move on to the next holiday activity. Trick or treating? Mopping the garage? I'm in if it gets me away from a crying poop monster. I'm just happy I kept a dog alive for a year. Look at Truffles ready for the cold weather wearing a birthday scarf:

Alive, healthy, and pooping in the street like your baby won't.