Deck the Halls with Boughs of...Whatever.

It is officially 11:59 EST and I have finished my Christmas cards. Every year, I sit down with every intention of drafting beautiful cards with flourishing script, only to end up with messily scrawled cards due to time constraints. Emma, however, did sit down and sign every single card. That's an accomplishment in itself. In my head, I like to think that I am Martha Stewart or Bree from Desperate Housewives, striving for suburban perfection, only to realize that I am more like Rosanne Barr, kinda trashy and barley holding it together.

Emma got a phone call from Santa today. There is this great website where you can arrange for Santa to send a letter or call personally to give merry wishings. Technology. Go figure. Who needs a mall Santa when you can have the jolly old elf himself call and create wonderment and pants-wetting excitement for the low-low price of $14.95? Oh stop it, you know you are so going to that website next year.

Now, I am going to go iron my apron and have a hard drink.