Christmas Day

Last evening we had a party with all of the children and their families. We ate terrific food from a place called El Charro Cafe, exchanged some gifts and had fun. About mid-week I started getting calls from Cletus, our wayward son, that he was going to drop by. In typical Cletus fashion, he repeatedly failed to show up. Then last night, just before our little get-together, he arrived with another man in tow. The second fellow, a middle-aged guy, has taken Cletus under his care, in an attempt to straighten him out. Kind of like the father he always wished he had. Cletus was clear-eyed and drug-free as nearly as we could tell. I wish him the best, I mean that. They stayed for a little bit, we chatted and then they were off. It was refreshing the neither the lovely Mrs. Sneed nor I had to yell at Cletus. The three remaining Sneed children and their families arrived and we spent some time chatting and reminiscing of Christmas's past. Some fun was poked at Merle Sneed, I have to say, especially when Older Son Sneed was asked to uncork some wine that his mother purchased for the occasion. It is important to understand that I don't drink alcohol, as a personal decision. Many a holiday was scarred by booze when I was a child, so I abstain. Son Sneed, despite being nearly 34 year-old was reluctant to open the wine for fear that his old man might be offended or critical. I asked him what sort of a judgemental a-hole he thought I was? His response was to ask if we could record the conversation for future reference. Daughter Sneed is one of these annoying people who remembers every little detail and bit of every conversation she ever hears. She can also recall what she was wearing when she heard it, but that's another story. As a result she is the champion gift-giver of the Sneed family. Everyone who opens a gift from her, asks how she knew to get that one thing. she answers with, "Last June you said to....and I thought...so I saw this and I had to buy it. Simple." We are pretty close to just giving her our money in January and telling her to get Christmas together for all of us. At least nothing would ever have to be returned or exchanged that way. The Sneedlets opened their gifts from their extended families and then retired to our bed to enjoy some new videos that they got. One hooligan or the other spilled his juice on my side of the bed, leaving me the option of (a) sleeping on the very edge of the bed or (b) sleeping on the couch. I chose (a). The Sneedlet's response? Sorry Grandpa. What can you do? This morning we are headed to Daughter Sneed's house to watch Sneedlet 1 open his gifts from Santa. Later they are coming here for dinner. Older Son Sneed has other family commitments with his in-laws. Today is developing as another day of stuffing myself and wishing I hadn't. Best Wishes. Merle. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky Tag: Daily Life Personal Finance Humor