Friday, February 6, 2015

and then there was we. dad and me.

As the holidays approached, Bill and I started trying to work out who we would visit and when. Since it was his family's turn to get actual Christmas this year, and with our move and trip to Italy, we were trying to fit it all in during a more condensed time frame than normal. So we decided we would do Christmas with my family the weekend following Christmas, and we would share that time with my grandparents and that side of the family. 

When I called my grandmother to reschedule Christmas for everyone (since they had planned to do Christmas a different day), she told me they were going to do Secret Santa this year and asked me what I thought about that. I told her how successful Secret Santa has been with Bill's family, and how I thought it was a great idea. Grandmother and Granddaddy should continue to give to everyone, but all the kids and grandkids would just give to one other person. 

It turns out that wasn't what she had in mind. Secret Santa was appealing to her because it meant she only had to shop for one person, instead of everyone, and let's be honest, she's old, and she is trying to tend to my granddaddy, who has recently been moved into an Alzheimer's care facility, so I can understand shopping for less would be a welcomed relief. 

However, as compassionate and understanding as I may be, that didn't stop me from telling my parents that I thought secret santa with the Robertsons was a bad idea. And then, when it turned out my very own dad was the one doing the matching of santas, I reminded them that this was a bad idea and something was going to go wrong. I just had a feeling. Not to mention that this meant Bill and I had a really good chance of not getting the Costco gift cards Uncle Ronnie gives year in and year out and we love a costco gift card!!! 

Here is photographic evidence of the fateful day where we all piled in to my grandparents' formal living room to enjoy our very first (and what could potentially become annual) secret santa exchange. 

There's Bill opening his double crock pot gift (yes). There's a lot of people sorting their loot. And there's Uncle Ronnie chit chatting with Jack's girlfriend (and it is important to note here that the girlfriend has a gift on her lap). Oh and mom is next to Bill with her own double crock pot gift. 

What you don't see in this picture are either of my grandparents and their mountain of gifts, my aunt pam with her gifts, my brother because he was taking the pic, or my dad and me. You don't see dad or me and it could be because we were too busy opening our loot that we couldn't get in the picture. 

Or it could be because neither of us got a gift. 

We both gave a gift to someone else. 

But there was we, dad and me, who had no gifts.

In big brother fashion, Lee wanted to know what I got. So I said "nothing." Because I don't believe in dishonesty. And because I got nothing in the secret santa exchange. It was like a slow motion movie. Uncle Ronnie turned on his video camera to interview me (he literally interviewed me about what I got in the secret santa exchange, and how it felt to get no gift) and the whole room took a break from going through their loot to watch the live action interview. The room was silent. And everyone stared at me and kept saying "oh no." 

Finally I just couldn't take it anymore, I told the video camera this was all very awkward and could we please just go back to everyone opening gifts. 

My grandmother felt badly so she disappeared and came back with a gold box. Inside I found an interesting pair of black gloves with fur wrists. I have never been the reciepient of a handout. It was a humbling experience to receive what everyone can only assume was a regift. I mean, how else did my little ole grandma go buy and box up these gloves so quickly! 

Dad felt really badly too, especially since he was the one in charge of assigning the santas. I felt badly because no one even seemed to notice that he didn't get a gift either. And all I can assume is that somehow, in all the matching, my alzheimers' grandaddy got 2 santas, and forgot to go shopping (which isn't funny. But kind of is). 

But, I guess it's safe to say that Santa really does know if you've been good or not and the girlfriend must have been real good this year. I mean, how else do you explain how she - who none of us even knew, let alone knew she was coming - got a gift. 

And then there was we, dad and me, who got no gift for Secret Santa. 

Thursday, February 5, 2015

bucket lists.

I love lists. You could even go as far as calling me a list maker. I write a to do list every day at work, and I write one every week for my personal things. And sometimes I forget to write things down, so when I do them, and remember I did them without my list telling me to do them, I add them to the list just so I can mark them off. It makes me feel accomplished I suppose.

A few years ago, I decided to make a bucket list. I wanted a way to keep track of the things I wanted to accomplish in life. Granted, some of them were silly (such as staying at The Grove Park Inn, The Inn on Biltmore and The Cloister...all with a hottie of course) and some were things that I would like to do but who knows if I ever will (such as learn Hebrew, sign language and finish my minor in German).

As Bill and I got to know each other, we talked about our bucket lists. I am pretty sure he told me mine was ridiculous because bucket lists were supposed to be fun. I guess when I compare his to mine, I can see why he would think that. His list consists of activities (like going to the Masters) and things that cause me to panic (like sky diving), and definitely not learning foreign languages and new skills.

When he told me he wanted to go sky diving, I told him he could only do that if there was a groupon because no way were we paying full price for him to maybe die falling out of a plane.

Well. It just happens there was a groupon for sky diving around the time of Bill's birthdizzy. He had 3 months to use it. and because I am a good wife, and I remembered when he shared with me his hopes and dreams of the future, so naturally I purchased the groupon. So the Sunday after Thanksgiving we trucked up to Lewisburg, NC to Triangle Skydiving Center so Bill could maybe die falling out of a plane.

We got there early, so it was good for me to be able to see others sky diving and while it gave me some comfort (since no one died falling out of a plane while we were there), it did leave some anxiety since Bill could always be the one it happened to. Of course when I shared my fears with him, he was very reassuring and told me if it was his time to go, it was his time to go.

Lucky for both of us, Bill made it!!! He said it was everything he thought. And like any man, the only complaint he had was that the holster was a little too close for comfort. But let's be honest. That's the least of what he gets for putting me through that kind of angst. Maybe he should think about that the next time he wants to do something life threatening. Or better yet, maybe he should just change his bucket list. There are plenty of fun non life threatening things to do in life, such as taking me to any of the places on my bucket list that I would like to go to with a hottie.

(as a side note, i am wearing that exact same outfit at work today!)