A Christmas Toast

       You know what's annoying about Christmas?  No, not that.  Or that either.  Or that.  Shuddup already, it's my blog.   What's annoying about Christmas are all those cutesy awful song parodies that are everywhere.  I don't mind the good ones.   Christmas is meant to be merry and sometimes merry=silly, so why not a good bit of parody or satire?  It's cheesy ones that stretch the idea thin and  sound awkward that bug me.   But after eight days of FP in the hospital.  Followed by two days of frantic prepping and shopping and packing to leave for another eight days. A five hour car ride. Followed  by DinkyPants, Hippie Pants, Feisty Pants, and Goo then getting yet another frigging tummy bug.  I am a bit frazzled.  Frazzled enough that, now, Christmas nearly being all wrapped up (snort, see what I did there?) I am in just the overtired, burnt as toast mood to truly appreciate a good (bad) parody.  So here you are, Merry Christmas.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me:

12  dozen cookies designed to stick to my hips (that I ate anyway) 

11 batteries needed

10 days of antibiotics

9 cousins visiting

8 days of FP's IV

7 goldfish swimming (early Christmas present for Feisty Pants)

6 goldfish survivng

5  kids hyped up on candy

4 kids who then got a tummy bug (the candy looked terrible a second time)

3 days with no sleep

2 cranky parents

1 Feisty Pants who refused to wear pants.

 

And to all a good night.  Hope your holiday found you healthy and happy.  And may all your New Years be merry and bright.