Girl and the DH went Christmas shopping for me on Saturday late afternoon and returned Saturday evening with three wrapped gifts. It started almost immediately.

I’m serving up the soup for dinner when she sidles up next to me in the kitchen and says, “You might think you have three different presents but some of them might go together.”

I tell her no more hints because I like to be surprised by my gifts.

In a few minutes she’s over whispering to my husband and he replies, loudly because he’s loud, “Absolutely not.” He looks over at me and says, “She wants to open a present tonight.”

Mid-day yesterday it starts again, “Can’t we just open one present early? I don’t even have to open one, I just want Mama to open one of hers.”

And again at dinner, “We could –”

“No.”

“But I can’t stand it! I want you to open yours.”

“Tomorrow night.”

“Before dinner, right?”

“No. The same as we’ve always done it. After dinner.”

Today, she’ll be beside herself. Really, it might sound sort of annoying but it’s cute. I love to watch her all wound up and excited — particularly about something she’s giving to someone else.

So, tonight we’ll open our gifts to one another. Then after we’ve gone to bed, Santa will come and leave his gifts to be found Christmas morning. I have a strong suspicion Santa has some athletic socks for me this year.

I realized yesterday that while the stocking holders were on the mantle, our stockings are not hung by the chimney with care. When I pulled out all the big plastic tubs with our Christmas stuff in it, there was one I couldn’t reach. It must be the one with our Christmas stockings in it. Maybe if I leave Santa an extra cookie he’ll overlook the absence of stockings.

Woohoo! Girl is out of school until she goes back on January 7!

She has been buried for the last two weeks beneath project after project, finals, and basketball five days a week. The kid needs this break and, quite frankly, all those projects are pretty stressful for her parental unit as well.

Today we’re going to finish decorating the house/tree and bake cookies. I’m ecstatic.

I’m yappping over at the Soapbox Queens. Come on over.

Soon. Ever so soon, my pretties, and I will be DONE. Done, I say. “THE END” is in sight. Even as I type this it is because I’ve taken a break from writing the final scene. Then it’s just a bit of layering, some final tweaking and a happy ending will be had by all. And dare I say it? Shall I tempt the fates by admitting I am pleased?

I got an email from a writer friend:

I’m a lot less nervous than I was a week ago, when I had no idea what would happen in the middle of this book. Some sh&t came to me. But I *think* it’s working.

*gasp* I’m still laughing hysterically.

And no, it’s not me. It could be, but no, it’s not. And no, I’m not revealing any identities, so don’t ask.

This morning instead of stumbling out of bed at 5:30 and downstairs to make a cup of tea and my blog rounds, I stumbled my way to the treadmill.

The book’s still not done. I have one present bought — still unwrapped. Two undecorated trees. Big plastic bins of Christmas decorations sitting about. The laundry hamper is full of dirty clothes. But I jogged/walked three miles on the treadmill this morning instead of putting it off throughout the day and then discovering the day was gone.

Yay me!

Click over to the Soapbox Queens to see how well-trained my dogs have me.