Merry Xmas! I promise to post more recipes next week. For now, enjoy spending time playing Rock Band with your teenage relatives, eating cookies and/or watching movies and eating Chinese food. Here's the view from my window:
Yes, I have an 18 inch fake tree. I can have a tree if I want! I'm a grown-up now. So there.
To be honest, I'm a little scared of having a real tree. We never had one when I was a kid. Well, we had a "real" tree, but it was the potted palm tree that lived in our house and eventually died. Such is your childhood when your parents are Jewish-Buddhist hippies.
In the spirit of the holidays, I'll leave you with my favorite family Christmas story. It's about my dad.
My dad does not like Christmas. He delights in nothing more than grumbling “Bah, humbug!” at people as they hang up decorations. So I was quite surprised one day when I walked in on my dad and my little sister watching the original “Miracle on 34th Street” on TV. “You hate Christmas. What are you watching this for?” I asked him. “Shhhh!” he said. “It’s a classic.” I sat down and joined them. It was almost the end of movie, and the big climatic scene where the lawyer, Fred Gailey, is proving that Santa Claus exists. The mailmen are dumping bag after bag of letters addressed to Santa Claus on the judge’s desk, and all of a sudden, I heard a sniff. I turned around to see my dad sniffling with tears in his eyes! Filled with shock and a huge desire to bust up laughing, I spit out, “Are you crying at a Christmas movie?” My dad cried out, “He’s just such a good lawyer!”
Have a great holiday weekend!