Post, post post. . .
Sorry, had to make a bit of fun of dad. So Christmas Day here was a veritably joyous loungepalooza, stretching leisurely from the jaw-dropping glory of a brilliant western North Carolina sunrise-
|Apologies for the Screen|
|Can you see all four of 'em?|
Mom laid out all the loot when all was said and done, and the overall themes became apparent; hers seemed to be a good deal about cosmetics, candles and clothes, food & beverages (mostly, anyway) for dad, and toys & treats for Yours Truly (and I'll grudgingly throw in a mention of the seed wreath there on the right end for our feathered friends from dad's work). My Advent calendar is but a ghost of its former self,
She put a special 3D pick in it that she gave him some years ago, and he says now he officially feels like the rock star he'd always dreamed of being.
but the binder must've beat it because it made dad cry in front of me and mom. If you remember, mom's sis up in NH had previously given dad a jug o' pure maple syrup since he's an addict, and when he opened this t-shirt from said sis he said he couldn't've said it better himself.
I'll apologize on dad's behalf for the poor focus here. If I'm not mistaken, I believe he snapped this after a few rounds of the Saint Brendan's. And finally, what's a holiday without beer? Dad loves trying new ones, and mom didn't disappoint with this marvelous selection.
|That's the grandkids' binder there on the left|
|He Who Has More Hair on the Bottom of His Head than the Top, Princess Pajama pants and She Who Refuses to Look at the Camera|