This post is coming to you today from lovely Petaluma, CA. That’s right - I’m HOME! (Does it feel different to you? Becuase trust me, it does to me.)
I flew home on Friday and beat the blizzard (win!). A few notes on that:
1) I’m not surprised that the Houston George Bush Airport has a very prominent FOX News Store.
2) Does Christmastime justify reindeer antlers in public? I mean, I understand if you’re at a Christmas parade, or carol singing...but at an airport? That’s a bit odd, right?
3) I’m pretty sure that the meanest people in the world have been specially selected and vetted to become airport traffic controllers. Not the ones who guide airplanes, but the ones who will not let you stop when you’re trying to pick someone up. A scary little man with a whistle and a sense of life-or-death urgency ran at our car, arms waving and yelling "No stopping!!! No stopping!!!" as loud as he possibly could. Yeah, yeah, I get it, you have to keep looping around the circle, but there’s no need to shriek at me!
But I made it home, where nothing has changed in the year since I’ve been away - as expected.
I watched a football game chez my big sister (henceforth Sister1). (And for the first time kind of got into the game. Crazy, I know!) One contributing factor to my enjoyment was Sister1 saying Hey, do you guys want red velvet cupcakes? (Asking Sister2 and I.)
Ummm YES! Sister1 makes absolutely amazing cupcakes. She has way more patience than me, and makes sure all the details of her baked goods are perfect.
So I selected a pretty little cake from the tin, and began to unwrap the paper. Oh wait Moll, I have a piece of cake in the fridge if you want that. I know you like peices better.
YEEEAAAAH! That may be the nicest thing she has ever said to me. (Well ok, that’s a totally exaggeration. But in the moment...) I attempted to re-wrap my cupcake and put it back, and then proceeded to enjoy a fabulous piece of red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting. Yum! Done - I’ll root for the Cowboys any day if it involves treats like that! (Haha, what can I say? I'm a new fan and easily bought!)
On Sunday we went to see Santa with my three cousins at the Stanford Shopping Center (we go there every year because he’s the real one - we don't want our message getting convoluted via messengers, we prefer to tell Santa to his face).
And we are not detered by the minor fact that our average age is 19 - we must see the Big Man. Every year we go, wait in line, and take a picture on his lap. My family has quite the collection of these pictures - quite a few of them with at least one baby crying through the whole experience (it’s like a cruel rite of passage or something).
One picture and 6 candy canes later, we had accomplished our mission. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas...