Holiday Spirit

Yesterday my Mom and I ran last minute errands for Christmas and stopped to have lunch.  We talked about what gifts we still need to pick up, whos making what for which party, which dog is the culprit for eating the christmas lights off the tree (whole bulb and wires inluded), and what the wrapping status was on the presents.

Apparently the other night my parents were drinking their festive boxed wine and while my mother was choosing gift wrap, my father was stewing.  The more tipsy they became the worse things got (no surprise here.)  She was hoping that she actually gave the right present to the right recipient and actually as the night wore on she finally gave up on even signing their names, but resorted to their initials.  While I snickered at this one imagining my cute female cousin opening up my brothers boxers, I didn't realize this was the best part.

My Dad was stewing (we like to call him Chuckles).  Chuckles was downing the elegant chablis wine getting more and more upset about the neighbors.  They went out of town for the holiday and in the meantime all the flowers/plants/gifts have been arriving at my parent's.  The neighbor does not like the dogs barking and my father takes it personally although will not do anything to actively stop the noise.  It got to the point where my Dad marched over in the night (or stumbled as the case may be) to take the delievery notices off the door and proceeded to unwrap the gifts at his house.  Once my mother realized what was happening she scolded him and took the delievery notices back to their house and put it in their mailbox (no way to get them back) and attempted to put the bows back on things. 

Ah, can you feel the love?