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Posts tagged ‘christmas ornament’

Merry Christmas Everyone

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May your Christmas Day be twinkly and shiny. You continue to enrich my life. Thank you for spending time here. Merry Christmas, Everyone!

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This post is part of the series Roll Out the Holly, about the stories Christmas ornaments can conjure. Click here to read the series from the beginning.

Seduced by a Squirrel

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A pom-pom squirrel. It decorated one of the first baby gifts awaiting my grand debut. I don’t know what was inside the box. Most likely, it moldered away in a forgotten landfill long ago.

Squirrelly has remained. A stalwart first friend. A fixture of my whole life. Every year, I unwrap him. Kiss him. Release him for a few short weeks to preen at the top of our big tree.

What does it say about me that my true oldest friend is a squirrel made of yarn and some ribbon?

Happy Christmas Eve!

For more about good friends:

He’s Super Human: Lou Mello

Into the Unknown: Lori O’Leary

Model Trains, Drugs and Thanks for Michael Carnell

This post is part of the series Roll Out the Holly, about the stories Christmas ornaments can conjure. Click here to read the series from the beginning.

 

The Marital Cock Block

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You know a cock block, right? It’s that thing that happens when you’re trying to score a little something-something, only somebody comes up and says something really embarrassing or stupid in front of your target.

“Hey, Man, did you ever get that conviction for pedophilia wiped off your record?”

Or

“Dude, your wife’s outside in the parking lot. Just wanted to give you a heads up.”

At some point in our whole Christmas vomit process, MTM threw me a cock block of sorts. Instead of complaining about the glitter and the sequins, the twinkles and the shine, he embraced it. With gusto.

I know the moment it happened. He saw these slinky icicles in a store, and he bought them for himself for me. When I opened them, my face quivering between “WTF is it?” and “I love it. You shouldn’t have.”, he ripped the box out of my hands and demonstrated their worth.

“They stretch. And, they wiggle when they hang from a branch. See? SEE?”

He jumped up and down beside the tree, over the moon with himself and his ornaments, and I lost control of Christmas vomit. His cock block would cause negotiations about everything: where to put the tree; how to place each bauble with perfection; what to do to attain the proper proportion of matte and shine.

I even tried to downplay the importance of decorating the very next year. “We’re going to be gone for half the month, MTM. What’s the point of dragging all that out?”

But, he was already in the attic, ripping open boxes and greeting ornaments like they were bosom buddies.

I think he kissed the slinky icicles. He probably still does.

To read more about MTM the urban designer/architect:

A Coda for my Architect

How to Wound the Architect Spouse

Help! I’m Married to an Architect!

This post is part of the series Roll Out the Holly, about the stories Christmas ornaments can conjure. Click here to read the series from the beginning.

Click the Cootchie and Win a Sexy Prize

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The identity of today’s ornament is a Cootchie contest.

Answer this question in a comment: What is the red rectangle near the top of our little tree?

The winner will receive this lovely Finnish lady to give some cheer next holiday season.

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For previous Cootchie contests:

It Doesn’t Often Snow at Christmas

Show Me the Money!

It’s Weird. It’s Strange. It’s a Christmas Song?

This post is part of the series Roll Out the Holly, about the stories Christmas ornaments can conjure. Click here to read the series from the beginning.

When He Reached Down His Hand For Me

Dear Cooper:

It is the wont of children to throw a wrench in the best laid plans. I had a whole series of blog posts planned out this month, highlights of Christmas ornaments that meant something to me, and you went and sent me this in the mail yesterday:

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A freaking Christmas ornament. Of your fingers.

Let me just go on the record and say it in front of the billions of people on the internet: you are the best guideson EVER. I am writing through tears, heedless of the fact that my plans were derailed.

One of the best things about kids is this: they teach us not to be so rigid, so uptight, so structured. Because, really, we don’t control a thing. From the moment you appeared, it was up to those of us who love you to figure out how to let you go. Every day is a little rip of the ties that hold you to us.

Here’s what I want you to know.

You go. Run. Experience life, wherever it takes you. Embrace that ribbon of the unknown, no matter where it goes. When life shows you its worst, I’ll be there. When you want to see its best, I hope I can give you a glimpse. Whatever happens, do not ever be afraid of living life.

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photo by Kristen Cronin

I love you, Cooper, and I can’t wait to see you in January. Thank you for another memory that will give me happy tears.

Andra

To read more letters to our guideson Cooper:

I Am Superman

He Eats His Hands

The Very Thought of You

This post is part of the series Roll Out the Holly, about the stories Christmas ornaments can conjure. Click here to read the series from the beginning.

And, in honor of your guide father’s Johnny Cash “God” fetish, I am deviating from the Christmas music theme today.

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