God, I love stuff. Getting it, giving it, eating it. And that's what Christmas is all about, right? Stuff?
And something about Jesus. I don't know, I don't have much of a religious education.
My Christmas morning went as follows: Woke up. Drank salted caramel hot chocolate. Opened presents. Ate insanely scrumptious coffee cake only made by my mother once a year. Then opened more gifts, including a Kindle which is basically never ever leaving my side again. Said au revoir to my sister's boyfriend, who had to head back to the Bay Area, then finished opening presents. So. Many. Presents.
After, my sister and I harassed the dogs and made them pose for Christmas pictures.
|That face says "please, no."|
Now my Kindle (yet to be named) and I are supervising the goings-on in the kitchen, which is currently filled with the scent of sauteed onions and celery in butter. I'm 99% sure that is the most delicious smell in the world. In a bit I'll contribute by making deviled eggs, then I will no doubt return to my newly beloved e-reader.
Oh technology, why so tempting?
Sidenote: Haven't heard from GS since he came to visit me whilst sick. My assumption is that means he is dead. Too bad for him, he's missing out on THIS.