We spent the morning delivering Christmas goodies to various people--to our "school," our pediatrician, and our vet. Just a token, a "blouse" box (when did those appear? I only remembered shirt boxes) full of rice and cocoa krispie balls in little cupcake papers, originally arranged in neat rows but not so after being carried around by kiddos, then wrapped in tin foil (which isn't tin anymore) and tied with green string. We even made holiday cards with our rubber stamps. Yes, I was very domestic today.
As a treat and in hopes of a car nap (which I got!!!!! They are so much happier when they nap), we went to McD's for lunch, only their second visit (I feel compelled to say that, so guilt-ridden am I as a "good" liberal parent for taking them there to eat. I like it, I ate it as a child, once in awhile is okay. I'm okay. They're okay). For happy meals. And on the way over, DS clarified, "Happy meals. Not crying meals."
No, not crying meals.
Well, that is until DD, so excited about her appallingly gender-stereotyped "Angel Cake" figurine (as opposed to his black and silver mega-robot, as DS noted, "with his tools."), fell competely off the booth backwards and "bonked."
It was a crying meal after all.
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