Everyone [not from my high school] is txting me, Merry Christmas! and it's much less offensive than when I was getting those Thanksgiving mass txts. Jenny's mom txted me a season's greetings, which has been the cutest mass txt so far.
Still, it's been highly inconvenient to find food these past 20 hours. At 6pm last night, everywhere we called was closed. All of the continental places wouldn't pick up, and the Lebanese restaurant was take-out only and couldn't promise a completed order until 9pm. Thankfully India's Grill was open, but it had a sign that read, "We're sorry but we will be closed tomorrow!" with a doodle of a Christmas tree. I would start shouting, Don't Jews Run This Town? but it's also the fifth day of Hanukkah.
We want to have Christmas brunch, which seems like a reasonable request, but again everywhere's closed. I was Christmas-videochatting with Colby, and my dad came in and announced, "We're going to IHOP!"
"Well, we can't go to Norm's."
At this point a normal secular family would've opted to prepare a morning meal together and eat it in front of the basketball game, but Mia's been in Lewistown, PA for the past six days and after day 3 we stopped doing dishes.
"Where are you having Christmas dinner?" Colby asked.
"We had Indian last night."
"You already had it? And you already opened presents?"
"Well tell your dad and brother I say Merry Christmas, or, er. I don't know if I should say Happy Holidays instead."
So we're going to cruise the neighborhood looking for eggs florentine, and if our luck is out, we'll be at IHOP. While I'm gone, you should check out one of my other blogs and download the second Secret Agency sampler. It's fitting; it has a Christmas song.