Holidailies -- Catching Up

Day 12's prompt: Pets and the holidays - share your stories.

In the 1980s I had a wonderful, skinny little calico named Wilma Dean. She was a wild woman, not unlike my Reynaldo in the energy department, but she was scary-smart and therefore lower maintenance than he is. She could amuse herself. And she was very much my companion, more than my "pet." She was my buddy.

Two days before Christmas, her personality changed radically. She showed no interest in food and was lethargic. Overnight her eyes got glassy and she started throwing up. That morning I rushed her to the vet, conveniently located across the street. I didn't have an appointment and the receptionist -- the vet's daughter-in-law -- told me condescendingly that "Doctor" wasn't in yet and besides, I didn't have an appointment.

Please! I matched her condescending tone by reminding her that I lived across the street and I saw his car pull in. And Wilma and I were very content to sit and wait for "Doctor" to be free. I don't recall if there were other patients in the waiting room but it wouldn't have mattered. Wilma Dean was getting sicker by the moment and she needed care.

The vet took us promptly -- because, after all, resistance was futile -- and the news was surprisingly good. So good, in fact, I didn't believe him.

He said she had the flu. Garden variety flu. He gave her a shot of something to help curb the vomiting but warned me that diarrhea may follow. But, since she had no fever, he was certain that she'd be fine in 24-48 hours.

"And if she's not? Then what? Tomorrow is Christmas Eve! Will you be here?"

He explained it would take time for the bug to work its way through her system but promised me that, if on Christmas Day, she needed him, he would come in to treat her. He reiterated that he was certain she'd be fine, though.

I didn't believe him. She appeared sooo sick and, as he predicted, the vomiting had given way to runny diarrhea, which made her cry in pain. I couldn't leave her alone, so I brought her with me for our Christmas Eve celebration at my mom's. I set her up in the den. She was sick, possibly contagious, so it was important we keep her tucked away from my mother's cats. We'd open a present or two, and I would excuse myself to check on Wilma Dean. If she was asleep on the sofa, I'd cover her with my jacket. It was scary and upsetting to see her so still. She was either sleeping soundly, lapping water from her aluminum foil travel bowl or whimpering in her makeshift litterbox. I was certain she was dying.

When I went to sleep on Christmas Eve, on the sofa in the den at my mother's house, my last thoughts were not of sugar plums or Jesus. It was of how most definitely I was going to hold my vet to his promise to come into the office for us on Christmas Day.

It wasn't necessary. I was awakened, pre-dawn, by paws raking my hair. Wilma Dean was hungry and bored. Just as the vet had promised, the bug had worked its way through her system and she was fine. Bright eyed and happy. My Christmas miracle.

I guess I needed this

I have really done nothing to day on my day off but sleep. I had a lazy morning, took myself to brunch and when I got home, I couldn't keep my eyes open. I slept for three hours and if I could, I'd lay back down now. But my self loathing would be ENORMOUS if I didn't do anything productive today!

Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Thursday Thirteen #201

THE THIRTEEN 

MOST POPULAR 

CHRISTMAS SONGS

Thanks to Wikipedia for this list (and the pretty tree photo, too).

PLEASE READ: This is a repeat of a TT I did last year. Yes, I know that Bing Crosby's recording of "White Christmas" sold a gazillion copies. But individual recordings are not what this list is about. It's how many times a song has been recorded and played. So while Crosby's "White Christmas" was a massive hit, the song itself hasn't been recorded as often or as successfully by other artists as four others on this list.

And now, without further ado ...

1  "The Christmas Song" (Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire) – Mel Tormé, Robert Wells 

2  "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" – Ralph Blane, Hugh Martin

 

3  "Winter Wonderland" – Felix Bernard, Richard B. Smith

 

4 "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town" – J. Fred Coots, Haven Gillespie

 

5  "White Christmas" – Irving Berlin

 

6  "Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!" – Sammy Cahn, Jule Styne 

7  "Jingle Bell Rock" – Joseph Carleton Beal, James Ross Boothe 

8  "The Little Drummer Boy" – Katherine K. Davis, Henry V. Onorati, Harry Simeone

 

9  "Sleigh Ride" – Leroy Anderson, Mitchell Parish 

10  "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" – Johnny Marks

 

11  "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" – Edward Pola, George Wyle 

12  "I'll Be Home for Christmas" – Walter Kent, Kim Gannon, Buck Ram

13  "Silver Bells" – Jay Livingston, Ray Evans

I'm not surprised to see #12 on the list. I think I have heard "I'll Be Home for Christmas" performed by everyone from Karen Carpenter to Lou Rawls this year. I'm starting to wonder where the singer is that he or she won't be home for Christmas. Prison? The military? Working the holiday shift at a hospital? The backstory on that one changes for me depending on who is doing the singing.

For more about the Thursday 13,

or to play along yourself, click here.

I Want Wednesday

I want my officmate to stop singing. I hate to sound bitchy, but she is making me nuts! She is absent-mindedly singing softly as she works and it's sooooo distracting. Thank God for headphones!

Happy Birthday to Me, Part 6

The final chapter of 2012!

Celebrated my birthday (11/22), Christmas and Kathleen's birthday (12/23) last night. First we toasted with fruity tropical drinks and then had a lovely Cantonese dinner.

I gave her decorative tiles from last year's vacation spots (Key West and Colonial Williamsburg) to add to the collection that rings her dining room wall. She gave me a lovely little bracelet and a vintage Fossil bag. They're both so cute!

Over the past six months I've done some freelance for her and have hoped that I could work with her more formally at her new job. Meaning we had spoken about my jumping ship and joining her at her new company. Last night I learned that's not likely to happen, at least not in the near future. When we first discussed it, she was very optimistic about how successful she could be in growing that business. The reality has not been so rosey. Instead of building her own inhouse staff, she has turned to our friend (and my theater buddy) Barb -- who works at a full-service advertising agency that offers, in addition to the copywriting I can provide, metrics and analysis and production. Kathleen is simply not ready to staff her own crew.

Oh, well. It's Christmastime. I have a job right now, even if it's not a job I loooove. That's all I need to know for the time being.

Holidailies -- Day 11

Yesterday's prompt: If you could spend the holidays anywhere in the world, where would you go?

London. I think it's because of Scrooge and Cratchitt.

Aw ...

Got a letter from my Cousin Rose in Tampa today. In the middle of all the doings of her day-to-day was an invitation to spend Christmas with her, her sister (my cousin Barb) and her sister's kids/grandkids.

It was such a lovely gesture. It means a great deal to me. And who knows? Maybe I'll end up there next year.

I am loved. That makes me happy.

Holidailies -- Day 10

Today's prompt: What will bring out your inner Grinch?

People who work so hard to take the "Christ" out of Christmas.

No, I'm not one of those RWNJs who believes there's a "war on Christmas." And I am, in fact, against the government-supported displays of nativity scenes because I'm a strong proponent of the separation between Church and State.

On the other hand, I consider "Xmas" disrespectful. And I have a dear, very sweet Jewish friend who just sets my teeth on edge when she says, "Christmas trees and carols don't really have anything to do with Jesus." She doesn't mean to offend me, but she does. It would be as if I said the menorah is really just a pretty candle holder and who cares about the Maccabees?

There. Was that Grinchy enough?

Holidailies -- Day 9

• Today's Prompt: What is the thing you wanted most as a child that you *didn't* get? For the most part, I did pretty well by Santa. I guess I must have been a fixture on the "Nice List." However I did always want the accessories that weren't included, and somehow the elves forgot to include them. For example, my oldest friend always had real baby powder for her baby doll. I thought that completely rocked! And Barbie always had "stuff" that would have enhanced her adventures with Ken, if only I had them. Sigh.

Sunday Stealing

Sunday Stealing: The 11/11 Questions meme


What is your favorite possession? I'm a packrat. I have alot of "favorite possessions." Right now, the nod goes to -- believe it or not -- a set of padded hangers my best friend sent me. It's not the hangers themselves, obviously, it's the gesture. Sometimes he can be very thoughtful, and I miss him enormously these days. 

Do you like to read? If so, which books do you love best? I'm a big reader. I bounce back and forth between biographies and mysteries. I think of it as alternating between "good for you" brainfood and dessert.

Do you have any pets? Yes! I love my cats even more than I love books.

What was your favorite food as a child? Is it the same now? Fish sticks. And no, it's not my favorite food now.

What is your favorite thing about blogging? Creating an accurate snapshot of how my life looks at any given moment.

If you could live anywhere, where would it be? Right here. Chicago is the best, most livable city I've ever been in.

What is your favorite number? 7. I like how it looks when you draw and when you write it in cursive.

Which of these things would you find hardest to give up for a year? Chocolate, reading, coffee or smoking? Chocolate. Because I neither drink coffee nor smoke, and there's no way I'd give up reading.

If you could make your life into a movie, what would you name it.. and who would you want to play you?

If you had £20,000 for a shopping spree, what would you buy? Leave me alone for a while at Macy's and then we'll see.

If you could eat lunch with one famous person, who would it be? Bill Clinton. I admire his joie de vivre and he's so smart about such a wide range of subjects.

Well, that's done

Today was hard. It would have been my mother's birthday. And I was back in my hometown for the occasion, getting my hair cut and saying goodbye to the house I grew up in.

My maternal grandparents built that house on what had been an empty lot almost 60 years ago. They lived there with my mother (newly graduated from high school) and my uncle (junior high). It's the house my mother left when she got married, and returned to as a wife and mother of 2, when my grandparents chose to downsize to an apartment and my mom and dad bought it from them.

The house meant a lot to my mother. Even more, the yard meant a lot to her -- she took such pleasure and pride in her birds and trees and lawn. She reminded my sisters and I often that only her family had ever lived there and she hoped one of us would take it and keep it. I know my niece, away at college and feeling very melancholy that she can't spend more time in the house before we relinquish it, feels the same way.

Only I don't want a four bedroom ranch house. I don't want a big yard. And most of all, I don't want to live in my hometown. It's too WASPy and too far away from the city. So while I know my mother is disappointed, this daughter isn't interested in maintaining the family home.

Plus, I can't help remembering how unhappy I was in that house. My father was very hard on me, verbally. It's where I lived when the family patriarch molested me. And my older sister beat me for the entire time I lived there. I'm not talking fierce arguments like sisters normally have. It was violent and incessant. My sister would regularly knock me down, stand on my hair and kick me in the back. When we were in high school, she threw me into the stove with such force that I dislocated the range from the wall, causing a gas leak and the fire dept. had to come out. My oldest friend, my playmate since kindergarten, can still recall with wide-eyed astonishment watching my sister strike me with a hairbrush ("pink with black bristles!") until there were welts up and down my bare arms -- all because she caught us in her room looking at her Barbies. Nothing was done about my sister's tendency toward violence until she was a 20 year old college student who -- in a fit of rage over losing access to the family car -- went after my mother with fists and a broom. I was very bitter that I could receive that treatment on a regular basis but it happens to my mother once and suddenly we're all in a therapist's office.

I know my mother loved me, but I remain angry at her for not protecting me. From my dad's constant haranguing, from my sister's beatings, from our exalted relative's sexual abuse. Mothers are supposed to protect their children.

But my mother wasn't a strong woman. And she was a product of her time -- the 1950s. She simply didn't know how to stand up to the forces she was facing within our family. The adult child of alcoholics, back in the days when the disease wasn't spoken of, my mother was desperate to maintain the illusion of Father Knows Best. It was as important to her that the village -- the town she lived in for more than 70 of her 77 years -- believe her family was happy and "normal" as it was for us to be happy and "normal."

She loved me and she did the best she could. It wasn't what I needed, but it was all she could give. That is what I have.

Walking through the house one last time -- the estate sale is January 11 through 13 and the sales organizer doesn't want us in there so he can do the work he has to -- all of this washed over me. And yes, it was her birthday, so that didn't help.

These issues were never resolved between us. It was too painful and confusing for my mother to face them. And that's OK. I made the conscious decision these past few years to overlook the more painful aspects of our lives so that we could enjoy our time together in peace. I don't regret that decision. I did it because I loved her.

She was my mommy. She gave me saltines and 7Up when I had a bad tummy. She made sure I got Blaze the Christmas I was 5 and she stayed with me during and immediately after my surgery last September. I got one of my best qualities -- my love of and patience with animals -- from her.

I was her daughter. I am not as pretty nor as conventionally feminine as she would have liked or understood. But she was proud of independence, intellect and verbal gifts. She always loved how drawn I was to Scarlett O'Hara and Jo March. I was touched today to find she had hung on to the Madame Alexander "Jo" doll I bought with my own money -- my winnings from the local newspaper's writing contest -- when I was in third grade.

Jo rode home with me in the cab today. I don't know how much she would have fetched in the estate sale. But while I can't and won't keep the house in the family, Jo stays.

Holidailies -- Day 8

Today's prompt: Share your unique tradition.

I'm more conventionally religious than much of my family. For the last decade or so, I have found great comfort and satisfaction in celebrating the festive/Santa/gift-giving side of Christmas on Christmas Eve and then, beginning with Christmas Eve worship service, I set Christmas itself aside for the spiritual side of the holiday. I don't mean that I spend the day in solemn meditation, but I try to concentrate on the true meaning of the day.

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: Blue Christmas

 

1) Do you ever suffer the blues during the holidays? I'm working on staying upbeat. I am listening to carols and reaching out to friends and participating in our community toy drive and trying to get myself out of my personal drama (the first birthday/Thanksgiving and now Christmas without my mother and the first holiday season in years that my best friend won't be here in person). So far I'm doing OK. (Crossing fingers that it continues.) Hope everyone who reads this is doing OK, too. I realize how hard the holidays can be for some of us.

2) More than 18 million visitors have toured Elvis' home, Graceland. Have you ever been there? Oh, yes! I'd love to go back, too. It was great, kitschy fun (just like The King Himself).

3) Elvis dyed his naturally light brown locks black. Do you dye your hair? I used to dye it red. Then I quit and let it go back to the natural light brown. Now I have it highlighted to cover those silver threads that are beginning to appear at my temples. (Which reminds me -- Saturday is my year-end trip to the salon and must remember to bring my stylist his gift!)
 

4) He also insisted his young girlfriend, Priscilla, dye her hair jet black. If your lover asked you to change your hair, would you? I don't know because no man has ever asked me.

5) Elvis served his country at an Army base in Friedberg, Germany. Have you ever been to Germany? Yes. I went to Munich decades ago. I still use my Hofbräuhaus beer stein. That's where I collect quarters for the laundry.

6) Elvis famously had an affair with Ann-Margret during the filming of Viva Las Vegas. Have you ever indulged in a dalliance with a coworker? Yes. More than once. And each time I tell myself it's a bad idea and I'm never going to do it again. It's just I spend so much more time at the office than I do anywhere else!

7) Thinking of his movies ... Elvis was, by and large, unhappy with his film career and once said, "The only thing worse than watching a bad movie is being in one." Are you happy with the way your career is going/has gone? Sometimes I feel very lucky that I get paid to write. And yes, considering that I have less formal education than most of my coworkers, I'm proud of how well I've done.
 

8) Elvis lost "the battle of the bulge" toward end of his life. Are you happy with your weight? NOOOOO! And honest to God, I'm gonna lose weight in 2013.
 

9) As a teenager, Elvis worked as an usher at a movie theater. What was your first job? I babysat. I loved it. The only job where you get paid to watch TV and eat potato chips.

 

"One of a kind"

That's Mr. Grinch -- one of a kind!

I had the pleasure of seeing it Wednesday night and was completely delighted. It's a trifle, just 90 minutes long. And it's more than a little corny in places.

But Stefan Karl played The Grinch and Stefan Karl is certainly, as the song says, "One of a Kind!" He has a great voice and a lanky frame he used as though he were a diabolical Dick Van Dyke. The Tribune review refers to him part Harvey Fierstein, part Christopher Walken and part Richard Nixon, and I don't disagree.

Aside from delighting grownups like me, this Grinch was a hit with kids, too. Stefan Karl successfully played a bad guy called "Robbie Rotten" on a popular children's show called Lazy Town, so he knows how to reach his audience.

He is the hit of my Christmas season. Don't ask me why, I don't know the reason. Perhaps his head isn't screwed on right. It could be, perhaps, his shoes are too tight ...

Holidailies -- Day 7

Today's prompt: What was the best thing you ever received for the holidays?

Blaze! He was my Big Gift from Santa the Christmas I was 5. I had been wanting him desperately! I knew him from both TV commercials and the Sears Christmas catalog. Blaze galloped (moving back and forth) and trotted (up and down) and neighed and whinnied when you pulled "the magic ring."

My mother had fond memories of me wearing a straw cowboy hat, feeding Blaze imaginary sugar cubes and climbing onto his back to ride "through the countryside." Once I learned the truth about Santa, I also heard how much my father hated Blaze. My dad complained about how the only store that still carried Blaze that close to Christmas was Zayre, which was always too crowded … that he was embarrassed hauling Blaze through the parking lot … that my beloved horse's shape made him impossible to get into the trunk ... It's always made me a little sad that my father couldn't take pleasure in how much joy my pinto brought me. He would have enjoyed Christmastime -- and, in fact, his whole life -- more.

 

 

THURSDAY THIRTEEN #200

To celebrate my 200th entry, I'm going to do my favorite kind of TT -- 
one devoted to movies. 


THIRTEEN GREAT MOVIES FROM 1987

Twenty-five years ago we enjoyed an embarrassment of riches at the movies. Here are thirteen that gave us catchphrases that still crop up in conversation today.

1) Wall Street. "Greed is good." Michael Douglas

2) Moonstruck. "Snap out of it!" Cher

3) Dirty Dancing. "Nobody puts Baby in a corner." Patrick Swayze

4) The Untouchables. "They pull a knife, you pull a gun. He sends one of yours to the hospital, you send one of his to the morgue. That's the Chicago way!" Sean Connery

5) Planes, Trains and Automobiles. "Those aren't pillows!" Steve Martin

6) Fatal Attraction. "I'm not gonna be ignored, Dan!" Glenn Close

7) Princess Bride. "Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." Mandy Patinkin 

8) Broadcast News. "I'll meet you at the place near the thing where we went that time." Albert Brooks

9) Lethal Weapon. "You think I'm crazy? You wanna see crazy?" Mel Gibson

10) Good Morning, Vietnam. "Good morning, Vietnam!" Robin Williams

11) Running Man. "I'm not into politics. I'm into survival." Arnold Schwarzenegger

12) Three Men and a Baby. "We're going to need some kind of cleaning fluid to get this off." Tom Selleck

13) The Witches of Eastwick. "I'm just your average horny little devil." Jack Nicholson.

For more information about the Thursday Thirteen,

or to play yourself, click here.

Holidailies -- Day 5

Today's prompt: Write a letter to Santa

 

Dear Santa:

 

I want to feel it. I want to feel the energy, excitement and good will that comes with Christmas. But alas, I'm simply feeling the spirit just yet.

I miss my best friend. Last year at this time, I was toiling away on the truly terrific Christmas cookies I made for him -- from scratch! I was so proud of that gift! This year, he's unemployed and no longer has a way to fly to Chicago on someone else's tab, so we won't see one another. This leaves a terrible void.

So Santa, if you could, please deliver him to me somehow.

Thank you.

I Want Wednesday

I want to not eat so much. I had an Italian beef sandwich, a bag of chips and a cookie for lunch and now all I want is a nap. Just because the chips and cookie are included doesn't mean I have to eat them right then and there. I have no self restraint whatsoever!

Not happy

Early last month, I saw Kinky Boots with my friend John because, at the last minute, my theater buddy Barb forgot she had signed herself and her new dog up for obedience class that night. He and I had a nice time, but it resulted in a lot of agita -- a flurry of the last minute "I'll meet you in the lobby/no wait, I can make it in time for a drink after all" calls that I hate. I like my entertainment to be without agita.

A few weeks ago, I missed Sister Act. It wasn't a play I really wanted to see -- it was part of our subscription series. But I did spend over $60 on the ticket and we didn't make curtain simply because my friend Barb couldn't get out of work on time.

Tomorrow we were supposed to meet for dinner and go see How the Grinch Stole Christmas.  That ticket was about $40. I was looking forward to it. Not just because Barb promised to bring my birthday present, but because I've been trying to feel more Christmas-y and thought this would help.

Barb blew out her knee. Shit happens. I understand that. I'm sorry she's in pain and completely sympathize with how uncomfortable sitting through a 90-minute play would be. We were going to still meet for dinner and I was going to the play solo. Guess what. She just now told me she won't be able to make it. Work, again.

Next up is The Book of Mormon. I have been waiting to see this show for, literally, a year, and was very excited last winter -- yes, it was January 2011 -- when our tickets arrived. That's how hot Book of Mormon tickets are. And we had great seats for early in the run! It opens Tuesday and we'll be there Wednesday! Yea!

Well, no. After nearly a year, Barb also let me know she can't make it next Wednesday, either. She has an out of town client meeting on Tuesday and isn't sure she'll be able to make that curtain.

I'm going anyway. I'm going to see The Grinch tomorrow right after work, and instead of our high-end dinner I'll eat McDonald's, but I'm going. Same with Book of Mormon. She's sending the tickets to me by messenger.

These tickets are always expensive. I pay for them in advance. Barb makes a great deal more than I do -- her salary is double mine -- and this is one of those times when the disparity shows. I hate the last minute stress of looking for a seat filler. Not everyone can commit to being in The Loop at 7:00 or 7:30 -- not if they have to deal with rush hour traffic and or public transportation. Clearly Barb can't, either, and she works within walking distance of the theater district.

When she can walk. I feel terrible about her knee. That must really suck.

But I'm unhappy about how our 10 year-plus Wednesday night tradition is shaping up. Too much expense, too much stress. Not enough fun.

Holidailies -- Day 4

Today's prompt: Tell us about your favorite holiday book or movie

No question: Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol. It's not only my favorite holiday movie, it's by far the best version of the Dickens classic.

Yes, it's aimed at kids. But it remains faithful to the framework of the original material and hits all the high, hard ones about Scrooge's life: his relationship with Marley and money, Fezziwig, Belle, the Cratchitts. It has songs I remember ("We'll have the whitest Christmas, the whitest brightest Christmas, a Christmas far more glorious than grand ..." and "A hand for each hand was planned for the world, why don't my fingers reach? Millions of grains of sand in the world, why such a lonely beach?"). And it has sin and fear and redemption and joy ... all in an hour.

Holidailies -- Day 3

Today's prompt: Which holiday song do you think should be banned from the airwaves, and why?

It was outrageous and funny when I was a teenager … and I haven't been a teenager for decades. I suppose every year it gets played because every year we have a new crop of teens. But that doesn't make me any less sick of it.

Still, for the sake of those turning 13 this year, here it is. Let's just get it out of our collective systems and move on! (Damn you, Elmo and Patsy!)


Grandma got runned over by a reindeer
Walking home from our house Christmas Eve.
You can say there's no such thing as Santa,
But as for me and Grandpa, we believe.

She'd been drinkin' too much eggnog,
And we'd begged her not to go.
But she'd left her medication,
So she stumbled out the door into the snow.

When they found her Christmas mornin',
At the scene of the attack,
There were hoof prints on her forehead,
And incriminatin' Claus marks on her back.

Grandma got runned over by a reindeer
Walking home from our house Christmas Eve.
(On her way home)
You can say there's no such thing as Santa,
But as for me and Grandpa, we believe.


Now we're all so proud of Grandma,
He's been takin' this so well.
See him in there watchin' football,
Drinkin' beer and playin' cards with cousin Belle.

It's not Christmas without Grandma.
All the family's dressed in black.
And we just can't help but wonder:
Should we open up her gifts or send them back?

Grandma got runned over by a reindeer
Walking home from our house Christmas Eve.
But as for me and Grandpa, we believe.


Now the goose is on the table
And the pudding made of fig.
And a blue and silver candle
That would have just matched the hair in grandma's wig.

I've warned all my friends and neighbors.
"Better watch out for yourselves.
They should never give a license,
To a man who drives a sleigh and plays with elves."

Grandma got runned over by a reindeer
Walking home from our house Christmas Eve.
You can say there's no such thing as Santa,
But as for me and Grandpa, we believe.

He doesn't hug anymore

My nephew, that is. I suppose it's not surprising. He is, after all, a man of 13 now. But it did make me sad to see him climb into the car without giving me a goodbye hug.

We went to see Lincoln at my local movie theater. I am impressed by how well he followed it and how interested he was in it. Then we went to Five Guys for burgers and hung around at my place for a while so he could play with my cat, Joey. My nephew and my big old tub of guts have always had an affinity for one another, even when my nephew was a baby and unknowingly a little too rough with cats.

Holidailies -- Day 2

Today's prompt: What are you most looking forward to this holiday season?

Giving my nephew his gift and then finding out how he enjoys it.

He's a teenager now -- 13! And his sense of humor is getting more ... well ... rebellious and joyously vulgar. Recently he discovered Wayne's World and enjoyed it so much trick-or-treated as Wayne Campbell.

So this year I'm taking it to the next logical level: I'm introducing him to Bill Murray through Meatballs and Ghostbusters. Soon he'll experience the terror of The Stay Puft Marshmallow Man and will be inspired by Trip's half-time speech.