No "Happy Holidays!" in this household.  No, sirree.  I've been making a point of telling every store employee I've spoken to recently, "Merry Christmas!"  Many have said "Merry Christmas!" just as heartily in return.  But you can tell the stores where they've been told to keep it 'politically correct' because, once I've said it to them, they look furtively around, lean in close, and say "Merry Christmas!" back in not much more than a whisper.  Who would've ever thought America would come to this?  SIGH.....

I was so tempted to post my Christmas entry tonite.  But I won't let temptation take me over like I did one time when I was a kid and I snuck into my parents' room and found all the Christmas presents tucked away in their closet.  And then, on the way out, I heard my Dad coming up the stairs.  Oooooooops.  I dove under their bed but I made a little too much noise hitting the floor and Dad found me.  Oh buddy buddy.  Let's just say I never gave in to THAT temptation again!  Plus it truly ruined my Christmas, knowing everything that was under the tree not only for me but for all of my brothers, too.

The worst Christmas I had when I was a child, tho, was when I was sick with the hard measles and running a temperature of around 104 degrees.  My parents set up one of my Dad's Army cots in the family room and that's where I lay, too sick to even open my gifts.  I think I managed to have every kind of measles known to mankind before I finally reached adulthood.

I think I'm going to throttle little Miss Chloe dog.  Last nite and tonite as I've tried to write here she's sat and growled at me deep in her chest, trying to get me to give in and go to bed.  She won't go when Dear Hubby goes, only when I go, and she's become such a little prima donna she thinks she can rule the roost.  If she keeps this nonsense up, does anyone want a Lhasa Apso?  Preferably someone older with no children and nothing to do but let her lay on their lap all day long!  Arghhhh...this dog is psychotic, I'm telling you.  Lovable...but psychotic.

Well, really...it is about my bedtime.  If I go now, will she think she's made me go?  Probably.  No wonder she thinks she rules the household, eh?