I saw Mommy maiming Santa Claus…
Published January 10, 2007 | 
Okay, this is the deal: Christmas — and, in fact, the entire 2006 Holiday Season — tried to eat my face.
It was a bloody battle. I nearly surrendered when the fully-decorated tree fell down in the middle of the living room — FOR THE SECOND TIME IN THREE DAYS — an hour before my parents were due to arrive. I completed my shopping on the 24th, and my wrapping with literally moments to spare. The ham was overcooked, as were the green beans, because I was worried about the eggnog.
And that was just Round 1. Christmas with the inlaws in the wilds of Western Pennsylvania was Round 2, and if you’ve never driven six hours through the pouring rain in weekend traffic with three bickering children, a brewing migraine, and broken windshield wipers? I recommend it as a test of a mother’s love. Mine is in damned fine shape, as proven by the fact that all three spawn continue to breathe without the assistance of a tube.
And heaven bless patient editors. If I ever again undertake to meet two deadlines within days of Christmas? Well, never mind. It’ll never happen. I think my husband will see me buried under the house first.
“I don’t know, officer. She was here last night. Telling me about her brand new story that’s due on New Year’s Eve. Seemed real excited about it. Then — poof. She was gone. Left her van, her clothes…even her purse. Don’t know where she went, but we sure will miss her. Eggnog? It’s really good. Yeah, she always did make great eggnog. Oh, mind the tree. It’s a little wobbly.”
