You know I love original posts each week. But when you have a repost as good as this, (or rather you are going crazy with a mile-long to-do list, are not even close to being finished with holiday prep and are on the verge of a nervous breakdown) you allow this week's Deep Thoughts Thursday with The Boozy Weathergirl to speak for itself (again) and hope that people's memories are as short as yours...
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and nothing was wrapped. I was sitting around, just staring at all of this crap.
The Pottery Barn stockings were hanging so pretty, I wished all my anxiety wasn’t making me feel so shitty.
The kids are home, and they never go to bed, so I‘ve locked them in their rooms with the threat of no gifts if they even dare to peek out their heads.
My hubby is sleeping, snoring like a fiend, he has no idea what we’ve gotten anyone anyway, so of him I have no need.
Just when I thought it was time to shed tears, a clanging from my fully stocked bar filled me with cheer.
Away to the liquor I flew like a flash, thank God I hadn’t started drinking yet, or I probably would have fallen on my ass!
The moon was shining on the glorious libations, and it finally gave me that happy, Christmassy sensation.
Then what to my wondering eyes did appear, well, it was Santa, by jolly, and he handed me a beer.
He was chubby and plump, and heck, so am I. I can’t believe I got to hang out with this guy!
He told me that he too drinks a lot more during the season. In fact, he says the internal warming of liquor is what keeps him from freezin’!
Quicker than the blink of an eye, Santa showed me why lots of liquor is a good thing to buy. More rapid than eagles, these cocktails he poured, and he shouted things out that just made me want more:
“Now, vodka! Now, tequila! Now grapefruit and cranberry! This drink is so tasty, we’ll thank Jesus, Joseph and Mary!” Arriba, abajo, al centro, al dentro - we slammed those drinks back until no more was left-o!
We drank and we wrapped and then drank some more, until paper and ribbon covered the floor. But now I was drunk, so I must confess, I was not even slightly bothered by this mess.
Alas it was time for Santa to return to his sleigh, so we hugged, and I sent him back on his way. He stumbled outside to his cart and reindeer, but before he left, this I did hear:
“Some ships are wooden, but those ships may sink. The best ships are friendships, and to those ships, we drink!”
However you are spending your holiday, please know that there is at least one person out there who appreciates you and wants you to feel warm, fuzzy and loved. You can replicate that feeling on the inside by checking out this recipe.
The Claus-Mopolitan
Comments