Fine, fine, I tried to gloss over the whole reindeer thing. I thought Rico would keep your minds occupied. Lord knows he's alive and well in mine.
Sigh. You want pictures? Here:
It's the photo we had taken for the office holiday card. I'd show you my face, but I'd like to retain some of my dignity.
The card is the pre-cursor to the office holiday party next week for which it has been suggested (i.e., mandated) that we wear red sweaters, brown skirts and "sexy" reindeer boots (this is from a boss who made me wear her hooker heels, remember?) to accompany our antlers and red noses...
I sent the photo to my friend. This is what she wrote:
"It's sad and funny at the same time."
I love getting kicked when I'm down. On all fours.
About me: I'm 42 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 9-year-old Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.