As I write this, it is the twelfth night also known as Epiphany. Tomorrow is considered the twelfth day of Christmas which means almost nothing in the United States but is considered a public holiday in some countries. At the Smart Mouth/Harley Stud household, it is the last day that the Christmas tree and outdoor Christmas lights are lit. I won't actually take down the decorations until the weekend but we will no longer "light up" after tonight. We are going dark again. It's kind of sad. I love my Christmas decorations more than my year-round decorations for some reason. And I literally remove every single non-Christmas item of décor for the season. It all goes into the Christmas boxes and back into the attic until the dreaded day arrives to take down Christmas. All over Bloggyland I am hearing how people can't wait to get the stuff back into the attic or garage or whatever facility you use to store your seasonal stuff. As for me, I am saddened to take it down. Oh, believe me, I'm glad that the hoopla is over. We had a great time but I am D.O.N.E. for another eleven months. It's just that I love my Christmas decorations. Maybe I should move to the North Pole so I could leave them up year-round. Ya think? MHS would never go for that. The man can't stand to wear long-sleeved pants.
Anyway, I figure after tonight it will no longer be acceptable to do another Christmas post for another year and I have a great story to tell about the best darn Christmas present that I never gave. Before I get to that, here are a few more pictures from our annual trip to Mickey's Very Merry Christmas Party.
Oh.Yes.We.Did! But we never lose each other. And it's so much FUN!
The magic of Disney: It snows on Main Street! Look real closely and you can see it.
Pretty maids all in a row
There really is no better time to visit Disney than at Christmas. It's just so beautiful!
These college kids, they never grow weary. Miss Lolly and I were dragging at this point (almost 1am) but the girls were still looking fresh as daisies.We were on our way home from the Mouse House the next morning and Miss Lolly was telling me about her awful experience when she had to take a drug test for a job. It's a very funny story about a clinic in a bad part of town (Yes, we do have some very shady areas even in Palm Beach County) with a skeevy bathroom where she was instructed to "pee in a cup." Now Miss Lolly is just about the sweetest person I know. Think about the sweetest person you've ever encountered and then multiply it by ten. I'm serious. The woman just oozes marshmallow, chocolate, creamy goodness. And it's sincere! Really. I don't know how she does it. But sweetness of that caliber cannot be faked.
So anyway, Miss Lolly does not EVER pee. She excuses herself to go to the ladies room. She "powders" her nose. But she NEVER pees. So just having a stranger ask her to "pee in a cup" was quite revolting to her. She enters the skeevy restroom to perform the required task and is carefully trying to balance herself in such a way that no item of her clothing or part of her body is allowed to touch the floor, the wall or any part of that disgusting excuse for a restroom in a medical facility. She takes so long that they begin to knock on the door to ask if there is a problem. Of course when you are providing a urine sample, they don't want you dilly dallying in there for fear that you might be switching out your urine for the urine you have in your pockets. Oh that's right! They make you empty your pockets before you go into the skeevy restroom. This caused another brewha as Miss Lolly explained that the pockets in her suit were sewn shut. Her explanation of how the suit lays nicer if the pockets are not allowed to gap was completely lost on the lab tech at this particular facility.
I truly would have loved to have been there to witness this scene. Listening to her tell it, I could not stop laughing and the picture I created in my head as she told the tale was the stuff from which sitcoms are made.
Miss Lolly's story reminded me of the first time that D1 was asked to give a urine sample at the pediatrician's office when she was three years old. I told how the nurse had asked her to please take the cup and tinkle in it and bring it back to the nurse. D1 refused. She explained very politely that you tinkle in the potty. You drink from a cup. The nurse tried again. I need you to tinkle in the cup just this time. D1 remained firm. You tinkle in the potty (said with an exasperated look on her face). You drink from a cup. The nurse explained that she needed D1 to tinkle in the cup so she could test her tinkle and make sure she was healthy. D1 replied and I quote: "Trust me, I'm healthy." (This smart mouth stuff runs in the family.) The nurse then turned to me and asked if I would take the cup home and see if I could get her to give a sample there. I assured her that if she failed in this clinical setting, there was no way she was going to do it for me at home. No sample was ever provided but the child survived so she must have been correct. She WAS healthy.
Miss Lolly laughed and said they should have provided a vile or some sort of container that didn't look like a cup.
I said, "Oh no, this cup looked just like the ones they use at Williams and Sonoma to sample the warm cider.
Miss Lolly made a face and said, Eewwwwwwwww, I'll never be able to sample anything there again. No worries though! I hate that damn warm cider!"
At this, I started to laugh so hard there were tears streaming down my face. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't stop laughing. Miss Lolly, D2 and DEErella were all looking at me like I was crazy. First of all, Miss Lolly NEVER swears. Me, I swear. I pee. I do and say a lot of things that Miss Lolly wouldn't dream of. So it WAS funny to hear her say "DAMN". But that was only part of the source of my amusement.
You see, after sampling the warm mulled cider at Williams and Sonoma this year, I decided it would make the perfect gift for Miss Lolly's family. I bought mugs, I bought cinnamon stirs, and I bought the cider concentrate and the mulling spices. I thought I was so clever! Turns out………………not so much!
I eventually caught my breath and revealed what I thought was so funny. And on Christmas Eve, the only thing that was a bigger hit than the meatballs was the DAMN.WARM.CIDER.
Of course I added a little spiced rum.
