At least I didn't have to go to the mall

That's the good news. I took all four kids over to the church Christmas party 20 minutes late, since I had to shovel the 4 inches of snow off the driveway and feed the baby first. The bad news is that there were 160 people packed in the church's Cultural Hall and the line for the dinner took like 45 minutes to get through, at the end of which Rebecca made a panicky announcement that she had to go the bathroom. I left her standing there nervously holding herself, power-walked our plates of food all the way back to the table, navigated my way through the billion people in my way back to where she was standing, and threw her over my shoulder to get her to the facilities in time. By the time she was finished my food was cold, so I took it into the church kitchen and microwaved it. Yum.

By this time Nathan had arrived even later (l-o-n-g drive home from work due to the snowstorm)- his timing was impeccable, as it was decidedly AFTER all the children had food and were seated at the only remaining table that didn't even have space for us in the first place. (Thanks for letting us crowd you out, Abercrombies and Phillips!)

Next we were treated to what Nathan called "the Primary song version of the Twelve Days of Christmas." It was long, and had more verses than I knew existed. Our poor song leader, I can't imagine trying to teach it all to them! Cassidy told me on the way home: "Bishop Brown is entitled to his opinion since every gets to think what they want, but I don't think we sounded much like angels like he said. We didn't do too great on that song."

Props to the Activities Committee though - even with all those people (plus some members of the ward brought extra friends and neighbors) they didn't run out of food. In addition, it was the first time I have ever heard Nathan (a notorious church party-hater) ask me to find the recipe for the food they served. That is an accomplishment in itself! The bonus for me was that even after all of 'that' at the party, in the end they saved me a trip to see The Fat Man (Don't worry children. Go sit on that strange old man's lap. Eat his candy and tell him your personal information! He won't touch you inappropriately...) No, I'm not being a Scrooge, and no, I'm not a Santa-hater. But seriously, don't you ever stop and think about what our parents told us to do, and what we keep telling our own kids to do out of a sense of tradition?

I love you Santa. Please don't hold my blog against me.