I just told my daughter that I needed a cheery and light-hearted idea for a blog post. I mentioned that things get chaotic this time of year, and people may need something to make them stop and smile.

She said, “Well, why don’t you talk about how stressed you are at work? Or, how you were so busy yesterday, that you ate chocolate-covered popcorn for lunch?” (Okay, in my defense it was the only food we had at the office. Well…that and Triscuits, which should really only be fed to a cow, because technically they’re nothing more than weaved hay.)

I told her that talking about my stress and poor eating habits wouldn’t qualify as light-hearted.

She then suggested, “How about telling everyone about how I’m reading the Diary of Anne Frank?”

I’m thinking she doesn’t quite get what I’m going for.

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I just heard The Twelve Days of Christmas on the radio. I’m pretty sure that most people would want gift receipts on everything but the five gold rings. There isn’t any doubt that a bunch of people leaping, dancing, drumming, piping, and milking would drive me more crazy than I already am…and I can’t get much crazier.

And, who in their right mind wants 23 birds?

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I took my kids to a children’s Christmas party on Sunday afternoon. All the kids were called to sit on Santa’s lap, sing Jingle Bells, and eat candy canes.

But, the stress must really be getting to Mrs. Claus. Because after bending down and talking to all the boys and girls, she stood up, turned around, and asked, “Can someone please get me a Bloody Mary?”

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I wasn’t feeling well last night, so my husband offered to get some take-out for dinner. He then asked our five year old son what he wanted to eat.

Our son replied, “Pasketti.”

Then he corrected himself and said, “No, no, not pasketti. Sasketti.”

And again, “No! Not sasketti. I want Spapetti.”

We were just sitting there, waiting for him to come up with the right word, when he walked over to my husband and said, “Dad, I want chicken”.

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