I'm squeezing in a few minutes on the blog before I gird up my skirts for some serious house cleaning and prepping for our Christmas party.
Are you surviving? Are you glad that there's only 2 more shopping days til Christmas, or does that fact send shivers down your spine like it does mine?
Hang in there! We'll make it through, and hopefully enjoying some family, friends, and good times with the ones we love too along the way.
Jason was talking about his Christmas shopping, (which mainly consists of Amazon.com boxes showing up at our door) and we discovered one interesting aspect about this season of love and goodwill toward men.
Here's my very own Christmas ecard to you.
It's true! I'm an open book the rest of the year. No secrets, no undisclosed credit cards (do department stores count? no.). And yet, now at the time to celebrate Jesus, you know, the guy who is generally agreed to be AGAINST sneaky business and such, we are encouraged to bust out the covert ops behind our husbands' backs!
In fact, we're actually measured by our prowess at lying, misleading, and otherwise throwing them off our scent. "Does your husband know? No? Wow, you are amazing! And it's hidden where? right under his nose? You're the man!"
We go about buying and hiding, sneaking and fibbing like it's another Martha Stewart skill to master for the holiday season, like tri level gingerbread houses with working AC in them.
That's just not fair.
Not to say I can't buy expensive things and hide them in the house and tell a bold faced lie to my husband if I had to. It's the other 11 months of the year I'm worried about.
Jason says it's ok, as long as on Christmas day all the secrets come out of the closet, literally.
I'll try to be back on Christmas Eve with a house tour. Ok, time to wrap my cleaning bandana around my head and strapping my dust rags to my belt.