Wowzers. I need to let that sink in for just a second.
Okay, anyway, we threw him an intimate (read: just he and Ann with my brother's and my families) little birthday bash. I had woken up with a lovely migraine just drumming away in my head so Blake offered to make the cake, go to the grocery store, make the veggie platter, and vacuum and dust.
Yup, she's a good kid.
I finally rallied around three o'clock and dragged myself out of bed to shower and get dressed. Then I had to put the finishing touches on the tableware and decorations to make it look at least a little party-ish. Next I whipped up some frosting for the cake, got that done and looking somewhat presentable and was all ready when everyone got here for the cook out.
|Best cake EVER! Auntie's white cake. YUM! (shout out Lucy)|
|the aftermath of 67 candles getting the crapped kicked out of them|
It was after dad had managed to blow out all his candles (yes, there were 67 on that damn cake, thankyouverymuch) and we were all just sort of sitting around talking that I heard a lone voice whisper softly amidst the noise, "I wish it was Christmas!".
Well, of course that got my immediate attention and I gazed with so much pride on that little precious angel who had spoken those hallowed words.
My niece, Dreyenn.
|while this may look like an innocent photo of Tess and Papa, look again. Right behind them is Drey plotting her Christmas intervention. God, I love that kid.|
I ran right over to her and asked if she thought we should, oh, I don't know, maybe play some Christmas Carols? I was nearly shaking with Christmas fever when she ever so enthusiastically said, "YES!".
Be still my heart.
I grabbed my laptop, got the Pandora Christmas Station (which I have book marked in case of emergencies such as this) and put the Carols on blast.
Now I did notice that not everyone seemed as excited as Drey and me about this most incredible turn of events. What was this? Scrooges in MY HOUSE?! I don't think so! All that muttering and grumbling from they who shall not be named managed to do was to get Drey and me to start singing along at full volume to those most beautiful songs, of all the songs, in all the land.
Complete with dance moves.
Dad looked up rather disgustedly with a snarky little comment of, "What the hell are they doing? Are they singing CHRISTMAS CAROLS?"
Um, yeah dad. It's not all about you (even though it is your birthday).
Oreo decided that Drey and I were in need of immediate medical attention as she mistook our sweet dance moves for seizures and proceeded to run over to us and bark like a crazy animal.
Sheesh! Talk about insulting.
But Drey and I were not to be deterred or discouraged from our Christmas fervor. Not us. No way!
While we did stop dancing, we also sang even louder. Take that Oreo!
|They've got the fever! The Christmas fever! And they were awesome.|
Drey began to tire out and eventually crawled into Oreo's dog crate (while still listening to the Christmas Carols; just not singing anymore). She oohed and aahed over the luxurious conditions of the crate and there was even talk of getting herself set up in there, much like a teeny tiny apartment, complete with Christmas lights, a tree, and even a stocking to hang.
I told her I would totally set her up.
|Like Snoopy's. But better.|
And that, my friends, is how we roll at the Reidy Ranch. And also how I am succeeding with my plan to have the whole world love Christmas all year like I do. One innocent little child at a time.
|See the one on the right? She's next. The one on the left has already been |
Besides, it's not a party until the dog thinks your seizing as you dance and sing to Christmas Carols.
|Excuse me...are you in need of immediate help?|