December 26, 2009

Merry, Merry

We had a very Merry Christmas. Hope you did as well. Marching on to a new year and a new decade!

On the weather front, here was the front page of yesterday's paper. As of 12:30 this morning we had about 9 inches. Could be worse - Duluth had 24 inches! We're hearing now the next round may not be as bad as "they" initially thought. Who else has a job where you can be wrong at least 50% of the time?!

Scenes from Christmas Eve
We gathered at the in-laws with Hubby's sisters' family. We started the gift giving with "magic" undergarments - boxer shorts for the big boys, socks for Chunky and tshirt/short pjs for Sassy. These come in a small compressed package and expand in water. Everyone ran into the bathroom to see what theirs looked like. Chunky couldn't wait to wear his.

Another big hit were Lacoste baseball hats for all the grandsons - Chunky's second from the left.

Scenes from Christmas Day: Our House
Sassy really wanted DJ Hero and Santa complied. I didn't know what to get Hubby. He has unique and expensive taste. I got him a netbook but he's not crazy about it (too slow, not a Mac) so it's going back. At least he had something to open. I love that he's still in his trashy snowthrowing clothes. He showered AFTER gifts. He's worse than the kids.

Scenes from Christmas Day: Grandma & Papa's
Sassy got a couple of other things from her "Santa wish list" - Ugg boots and a L.A.M.B shirt (she hearts all things Gwen Stefani).

Papa had some enthusiasm forced upon him when we cajoled him into modeling one of the many new shirts he received. Hubby got in the act too.

Chunky got lots (and lots) of clothes. This made him really happy. Not! I was surprised he liked this sweatshirt enough to put it on for a photo. He had to eat a little crow later when a discovery was made after everyone had finished opening gifts. We started cleaning up and ... Oh my! What's this?! Another gift in the closet? Who's could it be? Thank you Grandma & Papa for a remote control car. You saved Chunky from an almost certain death of no toy-itis.

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