I am recovering from the holidays. I am not sure how long this recovery process will take because I had a lot of issues.
Every year I dream of a perfect holiday season. I hope the weather will be cold so I can use my fireplace. I hope our health is good when the family gets together. I hope all my recipes turn out perfectly, and nothing goes wrong.
Knowing me, however, that’s reaching for the impossible.
It all started when I used a recipe that was supposed to be simple. It was a mixture of sugar and water, boiled and poured over crackers and almonds. I took one bite and realized that I must have done something wrong because the goop on the crackers was too sticky. And how did I know this? Because it pulled a crown off my tooth. And just for your information, it is practically impossible to find a dentist on Christmas Eve.
So I rolled up the crown in a tissue and put it in my purse for a future trip to the dentist.
Next, we went to see Christmas lights at a park in Colombia. They were absolutely beautiful, and we enjoyed walking down a path decorated like Wonderland. Of course, we had our little dog with us on a leash. He is a rather obnoxious Chiweenie whose ears are bigger than his whole head. He thinks he is a vicious Rottweiler and cannot understand that he is too small to pick a fight with big dogs. As far as he’s concerned, he IS a big dog.
So much to my horror, he tried to pick a fight with a Great Dane who was also leashed, and whose owner was desperately trying with all his might to drag the Great Dane away from the snapping jaws of my Chihuahua Dachshund mix.
Since the Great Dane was soon out of his reach, he turned to stare balefully at a white poodle that was joyfully prancing and dancing around. The little poodle was wearing a black and white checked coat and looked adorable… to everyone except my dog, Freddy.
I think that in Freddy’s estimation, this poodle looked like a prissy preppy and an easy mark because he suddenly jerked at his leash and lunged for the poodle, growling, barking, and snapping. The poodle’s owners, shocked and startled, yanked the poodle backwards, grabbed him up, and stared at us with a look that would have killed us on the spot had they been able to perform that feat.
After that, it was time to go.
Once at home, we had another issue on our hands when the family was together opening presents. In the mayhem, our 8-year-old granddaughter, three-year old grandson, and 2 1/2-year-old grandson disappeared in the other room with their toys. Suddenly, the 2 1/2-year-old grandson came running into the living room naked as a Jay bird. His big sister was running after him and shrieking to the top of her lungs. The three-year old was following behind, eyes wide, and the dog was trailing them all.
Through all the confusion and the clamor of the boy’s Mama yelling and demanding to know how and why he was naked, and his big sister screaming instructions and fussing at her little brother, we finally figured out that in the middle of playing he had to go to the potty, but unfortunately, he waited too late. He wet his shirt, underpants, pants, and socks.
But that wasn’t all.
As I went to check the room where they had been playing, I found a trail of urine and soaked clothes throughout the room and into the bathroom. And to make matters worse, every single child and the dog had walked through it...barefoot. I could see the little footprints throughout the room, down the hall and into the living room. We ended up washing all the children’s feet and mopping the floors.
This was not the Christmas I had envisioned.
But finally, it was all over, and I sat down in front of my cheery fireplace with my Christmas tree lights gleaming in the dark and a cup of steaming hot chocolate in my hand.
And that’s when I discovered my dog was sick.
So to the emergency Animal Hospital we went, and came home with a medicated 15 pound Chiweenie and a $1300.00 bill. And my crown was still wrapped in a Kleenex in my purse.
No, this was not the Christmas I had envisioned.
But there’s always next year.
