2013: Year of the Cream Puff

The best thing about 2012:

The first day of 2013:

Ringing in 2013 was a pretty tame affair around here. Second in tameness only to New Years 2003 when my brother Nick and I were in Edinburgh for the "world famous" Hogmanay festival and we did not realize that there would be NO BOOZE for sale AT ALL and so we froze our sober arses off wandering the streets and looking for the widely publicized but highly elusive Boy George concert. At midnight we were hugged and kissed by random kilt-wearing strangers who reeked of scotch while Boy George relived his glory days on a giant screen above us. We never did find that concert- drunken Scots aren't the most helpful or easy to understand in such situations. 

Since Brent and I had no swanky New Years party to attend this year, I insisted that we have at least have a special dinner to commemorate 2012. A special dinner where everyone complained about the veggie tart and both boys spilled their water within thirty seconds of each other.



And yet I was still determined to make it SPECIAL and so we made Jack eat his obligatory five bites and loaded everyone into the familymobile, heading to Sweet Life for dessert. Brent and I shared a slice of raspberry cheesecake because we are romantic like that. Sawyer opted for mango gelato because he is random like that. But Jack, well, Jack has a problem when it comes to dessert. After some panicky indecision and a brief lecture on why buying him an entire cake was out of the question, Jack settled for a chocolate cream puff that was roughly the size of his head.


 

My mom was a sucker for stray cats. We had A LOT of feline friends come and go when I was a kid, but I remember one cat in particular because he was feral. We would amuse ourselves by feeding him little pieces of lunch meat and watching him freak out, hissing and spitting and yowling as he greedily devoured his treat lest anyone tried to steal it from him.

And that is, sadly, exactly how Jack ate his cream puff. The people sitting around us were trying hard not to stare as he grunted and slurped his way through that giant pastry, smearing chocolate on his face and cream on his jacket. Brent and I were totally embarrassed. "Dude, slow down. Can you even taste that?" Brent asked him. I swear I could hear Jack growling as he continued to stuff his face with that cream puff. This was seriously one of the most disgusting things I have ever seen in my life and Jack earned himself a new nickname that night.

Once we got Cream Puff and Nelson (think Simpsons) home that night, Brent made them put on their headlamps and go run around the block to burn off some of the sugar while I put Clementine to bed. They each fell into a diabetic coma soon after. 

So we then spent a quiet evening drinking beer by the fireplace and watching Downton Abbey. There were no trips to Urgent Care and no one was hungover the next day. So yeah. Being old and lame is actually kind of cool sometimes.

I do have a resolution for 2013 and it's all thanks to my friend Doris, who is also the fairy godmother to my children. Despite my lousy track record with this sort of things, I think I just might be able to make this one stick. My resolution is to do more thrift store shopping! In the past six months I have scored so many sweet deals that I don't think I can ever go back to real store shopping. I will NEVER again pay retail prices for things like athletic shorts or soccer cleats. Snow gear? Helmets? Board games? Check. Check. Check. Patio furniture! Cast iron cookwear! Little pink sweaters! MY GOD, THE LITTLE PINK SWEATERS! I could go on.

 (I paid $8 for this Lego table! I think it has saved my sanity. Well, as much as it could be saved. At least I am not stepping on Legos anymore. $8!!)

Hopefully my resolution will end up saving our family some money. So we'll have more to spend on things like cream puffs. Or insulin. Or scotch. Happy 2013!

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