honest advice from the adulting impaired

Here we come a wandering….

Every Christmas season there are certain holiday traditions we try to hit, no matter how busy we get. Now I would like to warm your heart with tales of giving, love, and togetherness… but you should know me better than that by now.  Our actual traditions usually run more along the lines of “wondering why all but one string of lights has burnt out” or “adding wrong lyrics to Christmas songs a la the title of this post (who knew wassailing was a thing)”. We also will, at least once, grab some hot chocolate from the 7 Eleven up the street and go cruising the neighborhood looking at lights.

Last night was our cruise the ‘hood and drink cocoa night… and there was definitely magic… of the kind only a crowded car of hoodlums can bring. Let me paint you a little picture:


We piled into the Silver Bullet 2.0, our always messy and also well loved Mazda5 and set out for sevie’s (7Eleven for you folks who aren’t in the know… you’re welcome). Every child left that corner store with a hot cocoa in hand and a stern warning, FOR CHRIST SAKE, LET IT COOL BEFORE YOU START DRINKING!! We made it about two feet from the parking lot before Tillie began screaming and had to spit cocoa all over her seat and the floor in front of her.

Crazy thing, despite my warnings she didn’t realize that maybe she should wait and not drink the flaming hot MAGMA cocoa for at least a few minutes.

As a result of Tillie’s injury, we had to swing back to the house and grab some cold water. I also checked her tongue with a flashlight just in case. Everything was perfect and fine, although I don’t doubt it probably hurt worse than biting a molten hot pizza roll (something I had actually done earlier that day). As we pulled away from the house for the second time her brothers were especially concerned,

Conner: Are tongues like popcorn? Will her tongue explode like a kernel from all the heat?

Tillie: That’s exactly how my tongue feels right now like it exploded!! Mom! Did my tongue explode?!!

Me: No, it looks fine. It looks pink and NOT cooked… I think you’ll be fine.

Tillie: But tell me what it looked like!

Me: It looked like a tongue?

Tillie: That’s not what I’m asking!!!! WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE!!!

Me: I’m confused by this question… what do you think it looks like?

Tillie: Like needles!! LOTS OF TINY NEEDLES!!

Me: No, maybe it FEELS like needles, but it LOOKS like a tongue. No popcorn tongue, no needles… just a tongue!!


I’m completely distracted by Tillie’s tongue freakout when I hear a loud noise and feel a sudden shooting pain in my right arm…



Me: Conner??!!!! Are you freaking kidding me?!! I think my arm has nerve damage!! I almost drove off the road!

Conner: Oh… sorry I thought you knew the rules of the game…


Oh, I know the rules of the game. I freakin’ invented the game… or reinvented as I was around for the second release of the Slug Bug back when I was in like 5th grade. Do I even need to tell you that I was “punch buggied” multiple times as the evening went on? I must be losing my touch because I was NEVER ready for it.not.a.single.time. How is my arm this morning you ask? Not great…

As the night of wandering slowly came to an end Beau had a crazy coughing attack and drew all of our attention to his weird beverage situation.

Beau: Ugh… this marshmallow just made me cough!

Me: Uhhhh 7Eleven doesn’t have marshmallows in their hot cocoa…

Beau: Oh yeah, I forgot!


**** 5 minutes later ****


Beau: These marshmallows are just so weird!

Me: Beau! What marshmallows? What are you talking about?!


**** 5 minutes later ****


Beau: The marshmallows in this hot cocoa are making my throat feel weird…

Me: Beau, I’ve literally told you three times, there are NO marshmallows in your cocoa. If you are encountering marshmallow like objects we need to throw it away!


This conversation was basically the end of our evening. Cocoa was confiscated… no clue on what the heck marshmallows he had. I don’t know if I want to know about the “marshmallows”… actually, I’m scared to know about them… let’s never mention it again.

So we finished up, tradition complete. Christmas 2017 we are ready for you… sort of. Another year, another holiday season, another level up on their childhoods.  Pardon me while I get misty-eyed and sentimental. Now that their rate of growth has increased astronomically I’m realizing even more how lucky I am to be in this mix of chaos. I see many days of arm numbing punch buggies and weirdness in my future and it warms my heart in an especially holiday-ish way. I hope your Christmas is filled with the same level of crazy, high, HIGH levels of crazy.


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