For the first time in five years I spent Christmas Day with my family this year. This is one of those sweet rewards of quitting my job as a news anchor. No more spending holidays in newsrooms.
Life is good.
But I fear if I talk about it too much, I will totally and completely piss off every last one of my friends who are still in the news business. So newsies: quit reading, close your computer and walk away from the blog.
We got to our cabin in Colorado on Christmas Eve. To my surprise, my dad (who came up a week and a half earlier) had carefully and thoughtfully decorated the entire place.
My mom has this man trained well. Well, at least in this one aspect.
The cabin is called Majestic View, but I've dubbed it Doggy Heaven.
These dogs are getting so spoiled rotten with attention, it will take weeks to get them back to normal once we get home.
What a lazy bum.
Once Christmas morning rolled around, I was excited. Like little kid excited.
We haven't all been in the same room at the same time since my wedding two years ago.
And then my brother had to go and steal the show when he revealed that he bought a set of antique skis to hang in the dining room.
Thanks butthead. Now I'm going to have to try and top that next year.
This poor girl is about to join the family. Should I warn her now about how we really are?
Big brother and his fancy skis just got outdone. Dad surprised everyone with homemade cornhole games. (It's a tailgating thing.)
One set had a Chiefs board for the cheerleader and a Kansas State board for the alum.
Ours (minus the back-ordered decals) will feature West Virginia University and the University of Missouri.
Nice work Daddy.
Next on the order of events: cookie decorating.
We all thought it was a little ridiculous when mom made sugar cookies and told us to decorate them. But we ended up having the time of our lives.
From afar, the cookies didn't look half bad.
But then you look a little closer, and you realize there is a "McCookie Sandwich" made by my brother.
Yes, folks it's double-decker, and he was quite proud of it.
A little too proud.
Dork.
No, that's not a marijuana plant. It is my best attempt at holly and berries.
No one really knows what this is. But we do know that it took my husband three cookies to make. And he claims that's a zipper there. Whatever joker.
And who knows what in the heck that thing is. I just know that I'm not eating it.
In this one post, I have officially called my brother a butthead, a dork, made fun of his cookie decorating skills, and now I am really going to keep him from ever talking to me again:
We were treated to quite the fashion show Christmas morning.
That's all I'm going to say.
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