Frosty & Noel’s Gingerbread House

Ugly Christmas Sweaters

Ugly Christmas Sweaters

It is here….the week that we go from Peter and Penelope Pumpkin to Frosty & Noel. It is also this time of year that our adult children, bless their little hearts, cease to call us because they are afraid that if we don’t answer the phone, like when Wheel of Fortune is on, that they will have to listen to our voice mail in order to leave us a message. Both of our cell phones have this as our voice mail message, ” hi, this is Frosty (or Noel if it is my phone). I’m at the mall  and she’s baking cookies, when we are through we’ll give you call.” It just makes the Christmas season at our house. My phone, of course will say, “Frosty’s at the mall and I’m baking cookies, when we get through we will give you a call.”….

When we first married, I found a little pillow that had “Bah Hum Bug” stitched across it and I bought it to place on his side of the bed. But I have to admit, Frosty has come along way. Without me even asking now, he gets the boxes of Christmas décor out of the garage and brings them all in (all 27 boxes) and begins to set up the trees, then proceeds to put up the lights outside. Frosty has become Clark Griswald, I’m happy to say and it makes the season so much sweeter to have a hubby that doesn’t smirk every time I mention that I just need to make one more trip to Hobby Lobby. This year, he even suggested that we go early before the ugly sweaters get picked over and buy matching for our Christmas Card…is he a great Frosty or what? All this to say that the decorations are up, the candles are lit and the first of the family is coming over tonight to eat.

Last night, we met friends at a Greek Restaurant here in Frisco. It almost ended in us going shopping for a wig. We were sitting there having a great time with a platter of pita bread and hummus sitting there, when all of a sudden I felt this enormous amount of heat all down the back of my neck. Before I could turn around to see what was happening, I hear, “oompa” and this flash of fire is inches from my hair as the waiter has lit this platter of who knows what for the table of 4 sitting behind us. Apparently he doesn’t realize that in Dallas, you never get that close to ladies big Dallas hair. With the can of hair spray that is on my person to keep this Dallas big hair in place, my hair will go up in a flash. When I yelled, the waiter realized how close to my hair he was. W When the table on the other side of us ordered the platter of fire, before the guy lit up the sky and yelled “oompa” he remembered to turn around to check how close he was to me. We managed to finish our meal and leave before any more of my hair was singed. let’s just say that my hair stylist won’t need to cut the back of my hair now…the waiter did it for me

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