While the calendar said December 18 (which is the auspicious date upon which both my mother and Vidius Chandicus were brought into this world, albeit in different years), today also held the honor of being Wampler Family Christmas (tm). We're celebrating a week early because a) this is the year when my dad's siblings are here for Thanksgiving (which I missed) and at other peoples' houses for Christmas, and b) we're throwing an 80th birthday party for my grandmother tomorrow (even though her actual birthday was this past Monday). So, while I inadvertently turned off my alarm and slept until noon, and then took my v. sweet time getting ready, I spent most of the afternoon working on a board of photos with Aunt Kathy while my mother washed dishes and cooked, Aunt Becky created the floral centerpieces, my cousin Drewbaby (star athlete) hovered about and ate approximately two dozen sugar cookies, and my father, Uncle Mark, and the newly-acquired, no-longer-scandalous Uncle Brian stayed out of the way.
Sadly, Michael left Oklahoma later than intended, hit many patches of ice on the way home, and so didn't get here until 9:45pm. As a result, he got out of working on the photo board (lucky bastard), but also missed supper (a v. traditional Midwestern supper of ham, baked beans, scalloped potatoes, homemade rolls, and jello salad). We all sat around and generally antagonized each other until he got home, at which point we rehashed many of the jhokes that had already been told. Gram and Uncle Mark/Aunt Kathy/Drewbaby left around 10:30, and Aunt Becky/Uncle Brian retired to the couches in our downstairs living room shortly thereafter. And after a bit more bonding between my parents, brother and me (which involved many off-color jokes, as well as an insult in which my brother told me all about some dude who went to three different doctors, convinced that he could feel something crawling around inside the back of his head, before the third doctor realized that the man actually had flies *inside* his scalp -- and that Michael felt that even the story of the dude with the flies in his head wasn't as gross as the ring I was wearing. He is so charming.), we all went our separate ways.
And now, I suppose I should go to bed; I certainly can't sleep until noon tomorrow, since we're going up to the civic center building to decorate at ten a.m. so that we can come home and grab a sandwich before going back to kick off the party. I need to decide what to wear, and I can't decide what will offend my brother's sensibilities more: my brown/aqua/coral striped skirt with brown leggings and camel colored Uggs, my grey skirt with cream lace trim accessorized by the gigantic ring that he hates, or the fuzzy grey sweater/dress over a coral cashmere turtleneck (which he called 'hobbit western gear' last year), but I'll have to maximize my wardrobe to offend him as much as possible since I see him so rarely. And with that lofty goal in mind, it's time for bed!
p.s. Happy birthday Mom!!! And happy birthday Chandlord (may you have a thousand sons)!!!
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