I’m going to reverse your face.

I’ve spent a week in my hometown, which is a few days too many in my opinion.

These are my favorite quotes, in no particular order: 

Me: If both kids are hiding, who is seeking?

BFF: It’s quiet. I don’t care.

—

My Dad: This makes me want to pull out my little grey hairs.

Context: I don’t remember.

—

My favorite 7-year-old redhead, playing Uno: I’m going to reverse your face.

🤣

She’s the best.

—

Redheaded 7-year-old: Pop is delicious.

36-year-old aunt: Just wait until you’re old enough to put rum in it.

—

Same kid, looking at a photo of Eric Church that I took a couple of weeks ago: He’s real?

🤣

—

Redhead, while playing Taco Cat Goat Cheese Pizza: This is so stressful.

…it’s Taco Cat Goat Cheese Pizza. 🤣

—

This is not a quote, but a memory that I’ll remember forever.

We were watching the new Spider-Man movie, and everyone’s favorite friendly neighborhood Spider-Man was on the big screen making out with his girlfriend.

My favorite little redhead turns her body towards me, rolls her eyes at the top of her head and sticks out her tongue.

I feel the same way about men and love, child.

She’s the best ever.

Mermaid

My favorite little redhead and I were looking at Christmas presents at Grandma's house.

Little redhead is working on letters and sight words in kindergarten. She found my gifts and asked me who the name on the gifts were for.

Well, little redhead, what's the first letter on the name tag?

M, she said.

All right, I said. Out of all of the names in the family, whose name starts with an M?

Little redhead thought for a minute. I could see the wheels in her head turning.

"The presents are for a mermaid," little redhead said. She was excited she figured it out.

I didn't have the heart to tell her the presents were for Aunt Monica (me). Grandma and Grandpa most certainly went shopping and bought a mermaid presents instead of their daughter.

:)

A miracle, they are.

Picture three adults, sitting around a fireplace in a beautiful house.

Two of these people work to pay for that beautiful house. The other is just a warm, cozy houseguest who is sitting nearest to the fire and too lazy to get up, go outside in the cold and leave.

I'm that houseguest.

We were talking about small children, the joys of them, how they are a blessing from above in all of their pooping, barfing glory.

Kids are a miracle, I said. (I also did not help clean up the vomit from one of those miracles that had covered the floor about an hour earlier.)

Then we started talking about being outnumbered by children.

Me, single and childless, with a beer sitting by a fire: "I never understood why people put their kids on leashes. Then my brother had kids. Now I know why people put their kids on leashes."

---

I ran into another friend about a week ago, and something she said hit pretty close to home.

After getting out of a bad relationship, she said, she spends every day thankful to be single.

I understand, friend.

That hit me right in the feels.

"Let's talk about Christmas."

I was sitting in my Mom and Dad's living room when my favorite little red head crawled onto my lap.

"Monica," little red head says. "Let's talk about Christmas."

Little girl told me she wanted a pretty dress and a pink snowman.

I asked her what color of dress she wanted. Please note that I've already hit the stores pretty hard for little girl dresses, and the only colors to be found now are red, gold, black and plaid.

Little red head: "I want a rainbow dress."

Me: "Well, little L, they don't make rainbow dresses. Do you have another color that you want?"

Little girl eventually told me she wanted a dark blue dress.

A couple of minutes later, the wheels started turning in her head and she continued the conversation.

"Monica, how many dresses does Santa have?"

Me: "He probably has a lot of dresses for little girls like you."

Little L: "Then how come he doesn't have a rainbow dress?"

Little L got me. I had no idea what to say, because I just told her that Santa has everything, which in her mind, includes rainbow dresses.

SANTA DOESN'T MAKE RAINBOW DRESSES BECAUSE TARGET DOESN'T MAKE THEM, KID.

---

Please note that after I wrote this, I hit online shopping pretty hard. Little L is getting a rainbow dress.

Thou art.

This song played at my aunt's funeral yesterday.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M6LTqtYKDtI

As with all holidays: Be thankful for what you have. You could have a lot less.

Glitter failure

A Facebook update from last weekend, where an insanely introverted Monica went to two, TWO, Christmas parties:

My first journey into glitter eyeshadow was a total failure tonight. But if you’re going to fail, you might as well be a glitter failure.

Breakfast with Santa

Over the weekend, my Mom and I took my twin nieces to an event in town called Breakfast with Santa.

We had fun!

The morning started out with breakfast, of course. I was in charge of the messy eater twin. I knew a lot of people there, so I tried to encourage said twin to eat like a normal human with a spoon and not her hands.

It was mildly successful.

I was eating an orange, and their attention span was fading. Sigh. I never got to finish that orange.

After breakfast, we went to storytime, the twins got their faces painted, and we did some crafts.

Some young girls helped the twins make snowmen out of marshmallows and toothpicks.

It was neat!

By that point in the morning, I was responsible for the other twin. The nice girl helped us make a snowman, and gave her some extra bits of chocolate to eat.

We got two steps away from the table, and my little niece started eating her snowman.

The head was gone like that. The pretzel arms were next.

The other twin was proud of her snowman and carried it around without eating it.

They have totally different personalities.

My favorite part was the instant my sweet little niece, little K, saw Santa Claus.

Now, you have to remember that they're 2. They've read about Santa in books, and have probably seen him on television.

The instant little K saw Santa, her eyes lit up like the Fourth of July. You could tell instantly that she was in love.

That little girl looked at Santa the way her aunt looks at rum.

It was adorable.

There's the meaning of Christmas, right there.

(A little girl seeing Santa, not the rum)

A Christmas story

Christmas in my family often involves people being sick.

Last year I had bronchitis and spent the entire week of Christmas coughing up a lung. I also got tested for the flu on Christmas Eve last year, which involves a nurse sticking a Q-Tip up your nose so far it probably reaches your brain.

Note to self: I don't like things being stuck up my nose. I was not in a good mood last year on Christmas.

This year my mood is better. I'm healthy! People in my family, though, are not.

The Crap is apparently going around. I haven't gotten it yet, and I think I've done a pretty good job of quarantining myself from those who have it.

Except one cute little 11-month old girl.

One of my nieces is sick. I picked her up today and rocked her. I rubbed her back, shushed her whimpers, and told her it she would feel better in a few days.

Sick babies become cuddly when they don't feel good. She laid her head on my shoulder, put her arms around me and fell asleep.

Aww. We were having an aunt-baby moment. 

Since she was sleeping anyway, I decided to put her down for a nap. I laid beside her, rubbed her tummy and talked sweetly to her, hoping she'd fall back asleep.

She slapped me in the face five times and stole my glasses from my face.

Oh, well, I guess cute cuddly moment is over.

I don't blame her. That's what I feel like doing when I don't feel good, too.

This kid rocks, by the way.

(This was written yesterday.)