My ankle debacle is still causing me pain, but I’m tooling around just fine. Thanks for your suggestions and well-wishes. (I had no vicodin so vodka had to do, Palochi.)
My annual Holiday Party is this Friday. I’ve spent the week shopping, cooking, shopping, cleaning, shopping and cooking. I’ll be serving homemade meatballs in sauce with crusty Italian (OK French, it’s easier to find) bread, two different sets of homemade cookies and many, many drinks and goodies. I did most of the shopping yesterday, with the rest arriving via Peapod Friday morning. God bless Peapod.
Luckily I have the temporary roommate (my ex) to help me with cleaning and carrying groceries up the stairs.
I actually started my Christmas shopping as well. Everyone wants gift cards this year. Boring, I know, but hey, it makes my life a helluva lot easier. Especially since Dominick’s, a local grocery chain, sells gift cards for just about everyone under the sun (including Sears, where for some reason everyone wants their gift cards to be from this year. Hey, saves me from having to actually go to the store!)
So am I bad that I bought their Sears gift cards at a grocery store, or are they bad for wanting Sears gift cards at all? Or does it matter? Or does anyone really care at all? Yeah, that’s it… who cares.
My mom wants something from Crate & Barrel. No problem. I’m always happy to pay them a visit. I worked for them for 3 years before I started my current job. Man I miss that discount. 🙂
Dad wants cologne or DVD’s. Yes, my father, who never leaves the house, loves to wear cologne. In fact, he has an entire routine built around his colognes. One that would rival the most OCD person in the entire world.
He has one bottle of cologne for each day of the week. He marks each one with a piece of medical tape with the word “Mon” “Tue” Wed” and so on, with the name of the cologne underneath. Because sometimes he transfers the cologne from the bottle it’s in (if it’s a splash bottle) into the one he keeps for that day (because it has a screw-off spray cap.) Then he puts it in the bathroom medicine cabinet for easy access with the medical tape label facing outward.
I am not making this up. My dad does stuff like this all the time. And he’s been doing it for years, even before he became housebound.
He also has a box of Kleenex next to his chair. There’s nothing odd about this, until you turn it upside down. There, written among the marketing patter about Kleenex’s virtue as an excellent facial tissue, is every single phone number he should know, written in black ink. I imagine that every time he gets a new box of Kleenex (not Puffs, KLEENEX), he dutifully transfers each and every one of those numbers, in between viewings of Days of our Lives and The Westerns Channel.
So I need to get my father cologne. He says he’s out of Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. I haven’t a clue which ones those were, so I hope to Heaven I don’t duplicate Wednesday or Monday. Wish me luck.