...sure, I've been all deep and thoughtful in the days leading up to Christmas trying to impress you all with my tear-provoking prose.
But this morning I just gotta be real for a few minutes.
Hope you don't mind if I vent here.
And really, what are bloddies (blog buddies) for?
So here's the conversation.
It's not gonna be pretty, though, and I'm sorry to subject you to this on Christmas morning (oh yea, Merry Christmas, BTW, but sorry this is all about me, me, me at the moment)
Take a deep breath.
Steve: Quit wiggling, go back to sleep.
Me: I can't.
Steve: Seriously, Jenny, it is only like 4:30 am
Steve: Merry Christmas now go back to sleep.
Me: I can't.
Steve: Well I can't sleep if you're so wiggly. Really, you are like a little kid.
Me: Well, maybe we should just get up then.
Steve: I need to sleep a little longer.
Me: Well, maybe I'll just go out and watch Martha for awhile.
Steve: No, you're gonna poke around at your presents.
(We had a fifty dollar limit for each other this year and our goal was to buy the most amount of presents for that money...we do weird stuff like that usually)
Me: Well, there is a big pile.
Steve: Jenny! Go back to sleep.
Me: Well, I can't. I'm getting up.
Steve: OK, but no shaking presents.
Steve: And no touching presents.
Steve: And no poking presents.
Steve: And no opening your stocking stuffer box until I get up.
Steve: You were going to open that without me weren't you?
Me: Ssssshhh....I'm trying to go back to sleep.
What do you think? It is now 6:49 am and he is still not up.
I'm gonna have to go "accidentally-on-purpose" slam the bedroom door or something.
It won't be my fault if I trip over the dog or my slippers.
That would be OK, right?
I am not getting any younger here.
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