Look! Santa’s delivered all the presents to Maple Hoo! Boomer, Schnookie, and I were all good this year, I guess!
Santa leaves all the presents out for us early so that we can spend weeks driving ourselves nuts looking at them. Last night, Schnookie and I sat up until 2 am discussing which presents looked the best and which ones we wanted to open first, etc, etc, etc. It’s a lot like being a kid and sneaking downstairs to peek at the tree before everyone else has gotten up. Only we’re adults who have to go to work early the next day. It’s a little ridiculous, but we just can’t help it. Making it worse, at least for me, is that Schnookie is a genius at Christmas Present Psychological Warfare. She is the master of dropping “hints” about my presents and then using the goodwill she garners from that to try to wheedle information out of me by asking leading questions about her presents. I’m so bad at being subtle that when she starts wheedling, I tend to breakdown faster than the Devils defense on the penalty kill. The thing is, year after year it turns out all her hints turn out to be total lies. And yet I never take this into consideration the next year when she starts asking “So… Is the thing is that box something I can use in the kitchen?”
This year she’s informed me the present I get to open first is a dead fish. I’m fairly confident she’s lying about that one. I think Dr. Shopdog would be a lot more interested in that box if she wasn’t. I’ll get back to you on that one in just over two weeks, Gentle Reader.