My Favorite

Well, just so you know, I salvaged the chocolate pie and the dressing, which was almost as bad of a disaster, turned out pretty good also.  Whew!  I don't want to cook anything that requires a recipe for a while now.

I put our Christmas tree up on Friday, but we just got around to decorating it today.  I didn't have enough lights to reach the top, so I had to get another set to finish that up first.  I'll need to rearrange a little bit... the girls did most of it , so the ornaments stop at about 4 1/2 feet and are all grouped in about 1/4 of the circumference of the tree.  They had fun, though.  I only lost one ornament in the process, and while I'm kind of sad about it, I'm glad that was all. 

I thought I'd share a picture of my favorite ornament with you.  I'd like to introduce you to Creepy Santa...



Trust me, photographs do not do this ornament justice.  Honestly, I should hate this ornament.  Life-like things like that give me the willies, and he does too.  Every time I hold it, my tummy feels a little funny.  But for some reason, I love him.  His skin looks so real... the crepe-y texture of the bags under his eyes... the eyes themselves.. the eyelashes.  He's really disturbing.  He goes near the top of the tree so no one else can touch him and he watches over us all Christmas.  Really, it's like he's following you around the room.  My husband can't stand him.  If he goes missing, I know who did it.

I got Creepy Santa a few years ago at our Christmas Pokeno game.  We all bring an ornament and play Dirty Santa.  My sister brought Creepy Santa and it freaked everyone out.  Me included.  When I got him, I really didn't think I could handle having him close by.  But, by the end of the night, I had fallen in love with him.

I normally have an aversion to things like this.  I can't handle life-like paintings.  There was a sit-com when I was growing up, I can't remember the name but it was about this guy who drew comic strips and his wife had red hair, his two daughters lived downstairs and they had a really bizarre neighbor named Monroe.  I loved that show.  Except for this one episode where someone gives the guy this painting and it talks to him.  Scared the daylights out of little me.  To this day, if a painted portrait isn't a little abstract, get it away from me.

And dolls.  My dad has a lot of fun with my aversion to certain dolls.  I can handle most of them, but I don't like ceramic babies or the ones that just look like dead babies.  I also absolutely can't handle dolls that move.  My friend gave his daughter a doll that looked like it was breathing.  I almost had to leave the house when he showed it to me.  My parents bought Olivia a doll a few years ago that would cry and wriggle around when you played with it.  That was creepy.  What was even creepier was the night I was sitting on the couch folding laundry and the doll was on the floor next to my foot and started writhing unprovoked and touched my foot.  I came unglued.  Which reminds me of the Dora phone they gave the girls that started talking to me one night.  Oh my goodness that was awful.

Demonic toys, Stephen King novels, and Serial Killer kitties.  The things that scare me when I'm home alone....  It's a good thing I have Creepy Santa to keep away the Boogie Man for the next month.