Like the annoying co-worker in the cubicle next to you

I've got to interrupt you from your productivity, your collating of TPS reports and trolling for white sales online.  I just need to show you a feeeeew more pictures from the holidays (after all, who can get enough candids of someone else's kid in crazy Christmas jammies?) that will not only make you ooh and ahh over my hilarious, heartbreaker of a boy but will also make you fully understand when that deadline's just a wee bit overdue or I'm ten minutes later than I thought I'd be when I made the obligatory I'm-running-behind phone call as I ran out the door in my clicky shoes or so you might just laugh genuinely when I relay some freaking riotous account of his antics (yes, parents do know when other folks are handing off a courtesy laugh but we just pretend not to notice so we can keep telling the story). I won't go into every detail of our Christmas (cue the Ann Murray tape that's been in my parents' stereo for the last fifteen -- make that twenty-seven -- years and bloop off the top of that box of white zin that's been chilling in the basement fridge for nearly as long) but I will insist you flip through these Polaroids with me a time or two until I have a fresh stack of Groundhog's Day and President's Day pics to show off.  Here's a few frames from our holidays:

Outlining his rules for seeing Santa, which
included not sitting on his lap but being sure to give him a hug and
say thank you. And for goodness sake, do not forget Tiger (that's the
babydoll, friends). Hopefully, the rules included not taking photos
since Mommy shamefully left the camera at home in the rush to beat the
golf cart that hauled Santa and the Mrs. into the mall.

 

Treats and a note for Santa with a little P.S. on
coming "froo the chimney" and extra XOXOs. Froo the chimney, or even
better, froo the light or the ceiling, landing on the mantel and being
careful not to Ho-Ho-Ho too loudly so that it wakes him up and scares
him. I kid you not, this boy's very specific. Specific and bossy. Have
no idea where he gets it.

My mom got him this hat from KMart as a joke, but strangely, he takes this
cap-flashlight get-up very seriously.  These outfits are how I really
know he's mine. He's either disturbingly on his way to Kevin
Federlining his wardrobe or reveling in his preschool quirkdom.
Despite the cheap, billed cap style, he could give no love to...

...the accompanying jokey glasses that I found highly
amusing (I can already hear the tweenaged angst in his voice,
"Mo-oh-ohmmm!, GOD!"). These things are classic comedy. Never run out
of laughs with the moustache-eyebrow combo.

As did Grandpa. Go on, chuckle at my pops. I did. It looks even funnier when he's sipping on Grandpa Medicine (also known as scotch).

And Grandma. And really, how can you resist this hilarity?

Even Clifford got in on the comedy. And still, the boy?

Not so amused.

In fact, perhaps a little scared of the eyebrows on those things. Thankfully, his sheer delight and squeals at his Santa toys made up for the jokey glasses ambivalence. And anyway, how could you possibly fault a humor-developing kid for his disgust at slapstick? That earns extra points in my book. And I was the one pushing the bit.  

Comments

[daruma]

That's awesome, especially the "specific and bossy" bit. Here's to a better year for everyone. Patsy's motto for '08 is "Clean Slate!"

[2Jmama]

looooooove the pics!!! Who knew Clifford was such a funny dog!I see the love and happiness and wish you so much more in '08!

[Cailey Fitzgerald]

Haha! Love the pictures! It looks like you all have a snazzy new look to strut. Okay, maybe not so much? Oh well. At least the look was good for a few good laughs. Two weeks ago when I had my heart cath, the little boy in the bed next to me was also modeling the eyebrow & mustache combo! Sadly, when I asked for some, they were out. Anyway, I hope that 2008 brings great new things (with more snazzy new fashions!).

[zoe]

i love the pics!! hmmm. my step dad has grandpa medicine too...it's vodka.