At the new new-rollogist, who is a Howdy Doody/Doogie Howser combo platter. He does not impress me with either brilliance or sensitivity. I sit for many minutes, two separate times, on a purple vinyl exam table, in a white paper gown ("disrobe down to your undergarments, gown opens in the back") while he leaves the exam room to make phone calls. Checking on seriously ill patients? Nope. Calling stores at the mall looking for some damn thing that he has yet to buy, and must pick up after he leaves the office, after he finishes my alleged exam. I'm thinking he is not "the one." On to the next doc. (And who says "undergarments," for Doogie's sake!?)
Took LG to the final rehearsal of the church children's Christmas play, "Christmas, Where, When and Why." Left there thinking, "Dear Lord, these children need some help."
Somehow, between yesterday and today, prayers were answered, because the kids did an amazing job. LG played a wheelchair-bound paraplegic who realized she could still "bring Him glory, just the way I am." She sang a solo and did us all proud. And the other kids pulled it together, too. There were the two sisters, ages 12 and 7, who have "R" trouble, that is, all their Rs sound like Ws. And I don't know that I've ever heard anything sweeter than when they sang,
Do you wemember when you fiwst hewd the stowy of Jesus?I cried. So sweet.
It's the stowy of a mangew, the stowy of some shephewds,
The stowy of angels singing peace on eawth,
It's the stowy of a Saviow, the stowy of a viwgin biwth,
The stowy of a pwomise fwom God's wowd.
Then there was this coooool duuuuude who sang "The Thought-that-Counts Blues," in which he lamented
I really tried to smile when my neighbor came by with a fruitcake casserole
And call me ungrateful, but my Grandma Mabel gave me reindeer-scented cologne
After the "R Song," that one was my favorite :)
Before we went to bed, LG prepared Santa's milk and cookies, and the reindeers' carrots, and she also left a note and her VideoNow camera, telling Santa (sic), "I would very much love a picture of you. If its not to much troble, please take one. The directions are with the camera." And she left the directions.
Everyone at the Fairchild home must have been good this past year, because Santa was very generous. I got a couple of books, an outfit, some blingage (a diamond circle pendant), and other good stuff. Biscuit only got two gifts, and for some reason, Indie the fish got none (still trying to explain that), but everyone else was quite happy on Christmas morning. Santa left LG a note, saying, "I had my elf take a picture of me by your tree. I will email it to you soon. Ho Ho Ho."
Then it was on to join Jif's family at Nana and Pop Pop's. They really do an extravaganza of both food and gifts. This was their first time hosting a family Christmas since they moved to their smaller (though still plenty big) retirement home.
My FIL is, despite all the stories told of his younger, more under-the-influence days, quite the proper gentleman, and notoriously faithful to hearth and home, family values and the like. So what my BIL and I did to him on Christmas day in his own home was probably especially inappropriate. We were looking through old photo albums, old as in from the 30s and 40s. More often than not, if we couldn't figure out a great aunt or uncle, we'd call my MIL over to the table to make the I.D. Then we came upon a book that pre-dated even her. It was my FIL's photo album from before they were married, some 53 years ago. There was a photograph in there of a very attractive brunette, in a tam, on a city sidewalk, with a signature on the front, "Love, Elma." We asked my MIL who Elma was. At first she offered it must be Aunt Alma, but we assured her that it was clearly an "E," not an "A," and that we knew Aunt Alma, and this hottie was no Aunt Alma. This was Love Elma. So MIL came over to look, and she had never heard of Elma. So we had to summon FIL. As he made his way to the table, I came upon another photo of someone who looked an awful lot like Elma, again, on a city street corner, but this time with not one, but THREE baby carriages around her, with young'uns from infancy to toddlerhood occupying them.
"Ooh, look, the plot thickens," I said, "here's Love Elma with the Love Children . . . "
My BIL and I were laughing by the time my FIL got to the table. BIL presented the photo of Love Elma to his 76-year-old father, saying, "Do you remember tappin' this?!"
Not quite understanding the question, FIL looked back and forth from Love Elma to BIL. He slowly answered, "No . . ."
So I presented FIL with the photo of (possibly) Love Elma and the three Love Children, asking, "Does THIS refresh your memory?"
By this time, other sibs and MIL had gathered to give him a hard time about Love Elma and the Love Children.
Later on, after the timer was set to take the 16-member family Christmas photo, when someone said, "Let's take one more . . ." I said, "We'll send this one to Elma!"
Elma, if you're out there, and you remember Joe from Carbondale, email me.
Ever a man of his word, Santa emailed LG, with the promised photograph, taken by his elf, Bucky ;)