I really want to give you something special today. I want to start 2019 off with a bang, you know?
But here’s the thing: I’m sick as a fucking dog* and dealing with some serious post-holiday blah on top of it all.
This was our first Christmas with Offspring as a (welcome! So very welcome we almost didn’t let him leave) “visitor” rather than a permanent installment in our home, and now my holiday season has an official end: the day he leaves. Always before, I was content—determined, even—to keep my tree and my carols and my lights going as long as would be permitted by Husband, the neighbors, and local laws. But when I hugged Private Squdgee Booboo goodbye (and went right back to bed because his flight was at bullshit o’clock) I had no further desire to light the tree. It’s not that I’m over Christmas, it’s just… it all looks sort of sad now that he’s not here. Like a Who house after the Grinch left; all hooks and wire and crumbs.
Ooh, I know! I’m meant to tell you what was in that cleverly wrapped gift for Offspring.
First off, as we established in the comments, it was not a giant Toblerone. Though that was a popular guess.
ME: Did you see how I wrapped this?
HIM: Oh, is that the…?
HIM: Just in the box, huh?
ME: … Yeah, why?
HIM: He’s gonna think it’s a giant Toblerone.
ME: I know, right?
HIM: He’ll pick it up and shake it.
ME: … Then I’ll say, “Stop! You’ll break it!” And he’ll think for sure it’s a Toblerone.
HIM: (shakes head, laughs)
Sure enough, Christmas morning…
OFFSPRING: (picks up oddly-shaped gift, waves it around) It looks like a Toblerone.
HIM: Don’t wave it around, just open it.
My husband, the ruiner.
Anyway, it was not a giant Toblerone, because I’d got word that Santa was going to be stuffing his stocking full of mini Toblerones (which he could more easily snack on or pack as he chose) but rather… THIS:
Which is a thing I found while I was compiling my 2018 Gift Guide and just had to get him. See, a few years back Husband and I realized we were relying too much on “teachers” to provide his critical education. Now, school is a fine place to learn all about math and art and literature and history, but a well-rounded human also knows every pop culture reference going at least two generations back and appreciates music from a variety of eras. Thus his film and music education became the primary focus of our summers. Now that he’s moved out, pays his own bills, and generally has to get on without me he’s got a scratch-off poster telling him what to do.
There are loads more things I want to tell you about, really—including a house/inspection stuff update, a possible Meth Ghost update, and an adorable new game Alexander Hamilton plays, but I’m way too fuckin’ tired and I think I just sneezed out actual brain tissue, so I’m gonna go back to bed.
Let’s try again next week, m’kay?
* not one who fills our house with blood, thank goodness, but… look, it’s an expression.