Don We Now Our Gay Apparel

Yesterday Sarah got up, got herself dressed and began her day like most others. Until she started feeling a bit puny. She clung to me, burying her head in my neck and telling me her stomach hurt. Then, a little bit later, she threw up. After that, aside from seeming slightly groggy, she didn't appear all that ill. She didn't seem all that ill except when I told her we couldn't go to her friend's birthday part at Spa Kidz (yes with a "Z", they're Street like that, dawgs), she seemed not to care at all. Kate, meanwhile, wept into her pancakes.

Because Sarah was under the weather, it didn't seem like a good idea to bring her along on the planned family trip to the state farmer's market to pick out our Solstice tree, and then to the various stores we were required to visit in order to complete our day's errands. So I sent Jeremiah and Kate. Sarah sat, slack-jawed and grey-faced, in front of a movie while I cleaned and tended to various other domestic requirements. Then the other half of our crew returned.

Jeremiah and I placed the tree in the stand, and freed it from its webbing. We stood back and looked at it. "Maybe it needs some time for the boughs to, you know, relax..." I said, eyeing the thing with some confusion. Seriously, what was up with this tree? After it relaxed for awhile it became apparent, this was it. It looks as if it grew up on the top of Mount Crumpet, enduring ever-changing, harsh winds. I am grateful to have this tree to remind us of the ever-present life in the world, despite the cold winds of winter, but holy cow, this tree is going to make baby Jesus cry. Finally, unable to control my laughter I told Jeremiah that this was the worst-shaped tree I'd ever seen. Then, because the parallel was so painfully obvious, I called him a blockhead.

Kate and Sarah were just thrilled to have an evergreen in the house. They asked every 3 seconds if it was time to decorate the tree, while Jeremiah and I attempted to get this abomination strung with lights, with plenty of help from Monkey. Finally, the time came for decorating. Sarah had been puke-free since the initial incident, despite a scare right around lunchtime, and her forced afternoon nap, sorry, "nap", did seem to help a bit. It was her turn to place the star on the tree. She placed it up there and then, back at ground level, she said "that star is crooked." Neither of them commented on the rest of the tree.

While we decorated the tree, a chicken, purchased on Saturday from our local chicken farmer, roasted away in the oven, making the place smell highly edible. I made one of my favorite salads and post tree-decorating, we sat down to dinner, with the promise of homemade hot cocoa with marshmallows for dessert. Kate refused to try a bite of her salad. "If you won't take a single bite, " we threatened "you may not have any hot cocoa, and we will sit in front of the tree and drink it without you." She refused, which I really hate because then we have to follow through on the threat. She cried in the living room while Sarah, now seeming quite lively, helped me make the cocoa. By the time Sarah had a couple sips, she was bouncing. Literally bouncing.

She did somersaults on the living room floor while Kate cried on the couch. Kate passed me a note. It said "Mommy, please let me have some hot coco". I did not point out her misspelling because I felt pretty sad about leaving her out of the chocolaty fun, but seriously kid, take a bite of salad!