Any time large numbers of people get together for any length of time, it’s a recipe for trouble. Maybe only a small amount of trouble, or maybe a huge amount, but trouble nonetheless. Someone, somewhere, is bound to get annoyed at something somebody says/does, and then all hell is going to break loose (on a large or small scale (although if it’s only on a small scale, is “all hell” really “breaking loose”?)).
This didn’t happen at my house over Christmas.
This didn’t happen anywhere near me over Christmas.
What did happen was that my mother-in-law was here for a week, staying with myself, Clint, and E. There was one night that was fraught with tension, and being the way I am, I was forced- FORCED!- to attempt to dispel that tension and make everything all sunshine and rainbows again.
And so my solution was going to be to “Buddy-the-Elf-it” and leap from the ottoman into the top of our 7 1/2 foot Christmas tree.
In my defense, the reason I didn’t (mainly) was because of logistics; I’m very nearly eight months pregnant, and the amount of…um, you know…the invisible energy force that they teach you about in high school science (or maybe middle school, I don’t know, after 6th grade my brain signed out of all academics) that makes objects (or really pregnant, 5’9″ tall women) fly through the air and actually reach their destination…
I’m not sure where I was going with that. Either way, I thought better of my plan, and didn’t even get very many laughs for my empty threat.
Moving right along…
After Christmas dinner with my husband’s mom’s side of the family, Scrabble was brought out. Four of us sat down to play, and I’d just like to state here that I am APPALLED at the actual rules of this game.
I thought I knew how to play; everyone draws their seven letters, someone plays first and so on and so forth, everyone maintains seven letters until there aren’t enough left in the bag, people score points from their words, someone wins. The End.
Am I the only Scrabble-lover on the planet that didn’t know about the sneaky, horrible little rule that gives the points off of everyone’s remaining letters to the first person to use all of their letters?
Not only that, but those same points on the remaining letters are subtracted from your score! Well, whoever the letter(s) belong to, anyway. They lose those points while those same points are just given away.
If not for this rule (or, to place blame where it’s due, if not for my husband actually bothering to read the rules as we played), I would have won by at least ten points.
Stupid letter Q.
Now that Christmas is over and I’ve removed the giant tree from my living room, and since New Year’s is very nearly my least favorite holiday, all I really have to look forward to in the coming weeks is another doctor’s appointment where all they do is listen to the baby’s heart beat and ask how I’m feeling.
Oh, and jury duty.
Do you know, I have never before been slapped with jury duty. It seems like my husband gets it all the time, and that’s fine with me, because all he has to do is take off a little time from work. Not me. I don’t get off that easy. I have to make an extraneous trip into town, after finding a babysitter. Unfortunately, everyone nearby whom I would trust to watch my child will be all…busy.
Work, or some such ridiculous thing.
On the bright side, maybe when I call the night before to see if I still have to go, I’ll be told no.
And if I DO have to go, still looking on the bright side, maybe they won’t want a hugely pregnant, cranky, and totally biased woman with family in law enforcement on their jury.
I think the cold, snowy weather is giving me a bad attitude today. I’m gonna go get that under control.