Words: hot diggity
Caffeine: morning cup
Evil Calories: leftover desserts from Xmas...mother-in-law's cherry pie that gave me heartburn but it was worth it
Reality TV: Top Chef reruns on Bravo
Well, we survived our first "ain't buying shit" Christmas, and I have to say it went over pretty well. Even with charred index finger and a seven hour power outage on Christmas Eve, we still managed to show up for the festivities with massive amounts of homemade yummies. Everyone went a bit mute when we handed them over. I'm not sure if this is because a) they're petrified of my cooking or b) they weren't expecting so much stuff. I'm hoping it was the latter, however, there was lemon pudding cake incident about four years ago that would certainly validate a fear of getting within three feet of anything I had hand in making.
And though we got some lovely gifts in return, this, by far, is the winner:
Oh, yes. A de-fat-ass-inator. From us, to us. Could we afford it? No! Were we being irresponsible? Yes. Will we be poor but svelte with rock hard butt cheeks? Yes! (Okay, actually, no, I won't, only because I'm of good German stock and I don't believe rock hard butt cheeks are in our DNA.) I tumbled right into my sordid affair with the Crosswalk 480, and already my calves feel like fiery wads of goo. She's a cruel mistress.
Was Santa good to you this year?