Christmas morning with my family was “odd”, according to my sister. I was up baking cookies at 7am to prove to no one other than myself that I’m not a terrible baker, while doing the whole honey badger routine that occurs daily before I’m amply caffeinated and medicated. Mom made a spinach salad and Dad was sitting in front of the TV trying to find a football game to record later in the day. We didn’t open gifts until almost noon. I guess now that I think about it, we normally get up and immediately open gifts while doing the coffee thing. I enjoy not being on a schedule or doing things a certain way just because that’s the way it’s always done. My sister gets uncomfortable when we break tradition or go with the flow. This must be one of the benefits of being single and living alone – the ability to do things exactly the way you want.
The second batch of cookies turned out perfectly, so take that!
A baker’s dozen times two for MC and the leftovers for my parents. Crispy around the edges, soft and chewy in the middle. I left a dozen gluten-free snickerdoodles for my sister since her guts loathe wheat too, and took the rest for myself. They tasted much better on day two, which makes me very happy. The only problem is the sugar. This is day four of waking up with a sugar hangover. I must have a little SIBO that’s enjoying all of the tasty treats and subsequently making me feel like crap.
Christmas evening was a fucking nightmare because of certain thoughtless people who shall remain unnamed (hint: not MY family), but that’s another story for another time. Everyone loves their gifts, I got to spend time with my family on Christmas day, and I didn’t murder anyone last night. Christmas 2016 was a success.
Tomorrow is MC’s discharge cardiology appointment at the clinic. If all goes well, his care will be transferred back home. This means in less than two weeks I should be home! FUCK YEAH! If not, I’ve got three bottles of wine to work on. Always have a contingency plan. When all else fails, wine.