Wallowing in Joy

I love Christmas. It’s my favourite holiday and I can’t get enough of it. Which turned out to be a good thing. We always congregate at my mother’s on Christmas Eve, but this year, we got a call from the TinkParents early in the day to tell us that they’d had a case of not Typhoid Mary, but rather Typhoid Liam and that although the children were all bright-eyed and bushytailed after experiencing only a brief period of gastrointestinal distress, the infection had laid waste to aforementioned TinkParents and it was impossible for them to come. So Christmas #1 was a smidge quieter than it otherwise would’ve been, with mor, myself, Ken and Michele doing our level best to eat for 8 (it’s the least we could do), sing with abandon (no noise complaints were received) and in general enjoy ourselves to the max (and although we missed the pestilent a great deal, we did admittedly have a rather terrific time). In honour of the absent, mor placed candles by her photographs of the Tinks and the flickering candlelight made for a beautiful shot. Or so I thought. What actually emerged on my camera’s screen was more akin to devilspawn

Luckily, by Boxing Day, all was well again and we did Christmas #2: The Do-Over. I made sure to pay subtle attention to the children – y’know, just to check – and although the Tinks have recently turned 2, it’s with some relief that I can report they appear to be some of the least terrible twos I’ve ever encountered and that any signs of otherworldly influence were limited to the benevolent kind. Not that I’m biased or anything.

cott – Michele’s youngest – was there, too, snazzily attired in his new clothes (with loads of skulls. Naturally)

and Jason (her oldest) was missed as he helped Boxing Day shoppers spend their money. There were more tissue paper games and much laughing (I managed to make Liam laugh so hard he almost barfed)

Mormor gifted the kids with stuffed animals and Liam didn’t seem to mind that Morgan, who never met a stuffed animal she didn't think should be hers, insisted on hanging on to his for a while.

Liam is still working on words, getting better every time I see him, but being a boy, is a bit behind Morgan (also, he might be more the strong silent type because his sister won't let him get a word in edgewise. Their father seems to feel this is a common trait among the females of the family. I don't know what gave him that idea). Morgan is in the instant-replay stage of development, repeating everything - and I do mean everything - instantly, with careful e-nun-ci-a-tion, occasionally sounding remarkably like a tiny alien learning to speak the weird human speak (there's that otherworldly influence again). Like in the following clip where although she pays lipservice to the toy being Liam's lion, her expression seems to say something more along the lines of "You strangely insist that this plush toy belongs to my brother, but I beg to differ. Allow me to acquaint you with the expression 'possession is 9/10ths of the law'".


Popular posts from this blog

Weight Gain and Biologics: The Battle of the Pudge

What It Is Like To Wean Off a Tracheostomy