Christmas is for kids!

Kris Kringle originally walked the German countryside ringing a bell and passing out gifts, candies and cakes to the children. So, in honor of kids and good old St. Nicholas, give yourself the best gift ever. Tear the wrapping paper off your impish spirit because at Christmas you have permission to be a child!

Here's a few hints to get you started:

1. Start wetting the bed.
2. Steal mistletoe because people kissing is so gross!
3. Put tinfoil on your teeth and pretend you have braces.
4. Ask Santa for a pony.
5. Sing the "batman and robin" version of Jingle Bells until 
     your family goes crazy.
6. Suck the end of your candy canes to a point.
7. Make a wreath out of egg cartons and paint it with
     tempera paints.
8. Wear your hair in pigtails and sit on Santa's lap.
9. Start a snow ball fight.
10. Sneak a peak at a present under the tree, then rewrap it 
     so no one knows.
11. Watch "A Muppet Christmas Carol" and sing along.
12. At parties introduce yourself as Cindy Lou from Whoville.
13. Write a letter to Santa and send it.
14. Wear bells on your shoes.
15. Listen to "Twas the Night Before Christmas" backwards,
       you can hear the phrase 'Paul is dead'!
16. Outline the toilet in twinkle lights.
17. Make Froot Loop necklaces for everyone you love.
18. Put glitter on EVERYTHING!

A bit of Bailey's...

I used to love winter, growing up a skier and all. Not so much the older I get. I actually feel for the birds at my feeders, the horses hunched against the wind, cows all laying in a cluster to gather whatever body warmth from each other they can. And Christmas... I love making everyone I love gifts I hope they will love! Nothing like putting the pressure on 'cause I never start making this stuff in July when I need to to get all I want to get done, done! But today, I'm loving the sun. It's not even twenty degrees out, the fire's burning almost constantly since I refuse to shut the shades and keep the heat in 'cause the sun's out! When I go for a walk  this afternoon, I'll smile at the crunch of ice under my cleats, hope I don't fall and break a hip and turn my face to the sun that shines with as much warmth as Antarctic ice. But so what?  It's winter, we have it seven months a year! So I'll suck down a bit more Bailey's Irish Cream in my coffee and wrap up in an afghan when I come traipsing in from the cold. And sneeze and sniffle and thank the powers that be for a bit of sunshine and imaginary warmth on the fluffed birds and huddled farm animals. And froze-to-the-boney old me!