A Different Kind of Cake

This is my last post about Christmas. I promise. . . . . . .Until next year!

We got this beautiful delivery from Patricks parents to kick start the weekend. 

What was the best part about everyone coming to my house for Christmas?!?! I got to stay in my pajamas the entire day! Of course I had to work the night's Eve, so once again I was functioning off of borrowed energy, but it was worth the effort. 

The puppies got new jackets, since they've been chilly this month, and the new Martha Stewart skunk toy was a big hit. (The last one was so popular, I had to dispose of it after the disintegrating started!)

Apparently, this is what "we aren't going to buy each other presents this year" looks like for us. It's obvious we are all good at abiding to rules.
My mom got herself a rodent bombing gun. It's probably a good idea to stay out of her pantry. She hit the jack pot this year: sniper, spa day (Presented in a re-used card that was placed in a reused envelope, with visible white-out writings from a previous life and all. We laughed pretty hardily about all this, and Patrick's creative wrappings. We gave them much deserved credit for both creativity and most environment friendly presentations), and a hard back colored copy of my blog that she requested!!! 

This was one of my favorite wrapped presents from my hunny. Neatly constructed from white duct tape and some sort of left over plastic baggy, I ranked it as "most creative". He always knows how to spice things up. Among other things, I got an array of coffee's for my super duper amazing coffee maker, and a fancy fry-daddy that I'm sure to be breaking in soon.

Dusteroo was more than thrilled to unwrap this knife sharpener. To each his own. He's already started sharpening objects around the house. 

We spent the day giggling, drinking margaritas and jalepeno ginger Mexican martinis, and preparing a fajita feast. Yummy.

My Dad's wearing the fancy sport durag  I got him last year for Christmas!! Best gift I've ever got him!

And last but definitely not least, I got a spin bike for Christmas, complete with a big red bow!!!!!!! It. Is. Awesome. A perfect compliment to the new cute socks and unbelievably comfortable Nike workout pants my hunny got me! Now I need to get some pedals so I can clip in, and I'll be on my way to being bikini season  fit in no time! (Target already has bathing suits out! EEK!)

After all the hype had calmed, it was time to celebrate a short coming birthday that handsome husband of mine has lurking in the near future. My mom presented the delicious Tiramisu cake she ordered, just for him. It was a beautiful cream colored rectangle, garnished by dark chocolate accents, jam packed with rich flavors of rum, decadent even, while maintaining light and airy, *maybe even dangerous characteristics. We all gorged ourselves in the cold delicacy, and passed the evening's time listening to Patrick serenade us with old school rock on the guitar, while my mom got her ass handed to her in Othello by Muah, with my dad and brother battling for the spotlight of who can snore the loudest on the couch. 

It was some moment in that blur of time that Patrick started to complain about his ears being hot, which isn't unusual. The boy lives hot. They were undoubtedly blood-shot red, but it couldn't have been warmer than 60 degrees in the house. He opened the living room door to freeze us all anyway. We shrugged off his complaints through our shivers, blaming it on his abundant beer consumption, but it wasn't long before he was pacing the floor with anxiety about his overwhelming sensations of flushed cheeks, red hot ears, and pearls of sweat forming on his forehead. We kicked him outside to morph into a human popsicle, eat an ice-cream sandwich, and encouraged a cold shower, but despite his efforts, the symptoms lingered. Then we noticed something. The bilateral arm rash, presenting in perfect symmetry that was migrating it's way to his face. We commented on our assessment, suspecting hives, and Patrick began to verbalize his increased effort to breathe.

A little nervous, I searched the house for Benadryl. BINGO; found some. FAIL: Expired 2007. I searched my work bag and found more. Double FAIL: Expired 3/2010. (I should really clean out our medicine cabinet more often!) I web searched a 24hr CVS and called this time, to prevent any unnecessary emotional breakdowns. My brother and I made the trip, got the non-expired meds, and escaped death by the skin of our noses before making it back home. (A car was driving on a main road at midnight without their lights on came alarmingly close to T-boning us!) I slipped Patrick off into a Benadryl induced coma and started the third book of The Hunger Games. From one suspense story to another. We've yet to decide what exactly set him off (* I'm blaming it on the Tiramisu so I can have the rest all to myself), but he was still requiring the anti-histamine to keep the reaction under control as of last night. Whatever the case, we've got to stop this little trend of Urgent Care threats on holidays!

Are you allergic to anything??? What's your favorite kind of cake?!?!? Do you think it's too early to sell bathing suits?