The in-laws have arrived. The tree has been trimmed (and is gorgeous as usual, even with our madly eccentric collection of ornaments) and its traditional concomitant Chinese dinner eaten. The house is - well, reasonably clean. The bathrooms are spectacular. Even the cat appears (so far...let's all cross our fingers) to have managed to hit the litter box. The presents are wrapped.
Ah, if it were only that simple.
Tomorrow: Wake up at 5 am to make sure Sarah gets to work on time. Hit Christopher Street Citibank ATM to get money. Meet Sarah's boyfriend Seth in Chinatown at 9 am to get the lobsters and shrimp for Lobster Fest (not to mention red onions and tomatoes for Christmas breakfast and a vegetable of some damn variety for Christmas dinner). Try to remember to buy cocktail sauce. BUY MORE BUTTER, and some lemons.
Have Lobster Fest. Clean up at much as humanly possibly while dazed with melted butter, because a Christmas morning accompanied by a table full of dirty dishes and forlorn beer cans is NOT a happy Christmas morning.
Friday: Have Christmas breakfast...which Sarah, God bless her, is providing. Open presents. Actually, this ALWAYS comes before Christmas breakfast. I cannot ever, in all the years I have been a part of this family, remember a Christmas where Ben (my MIL) did not say, "Just ONE present each, then we'll have breakfast and after that, we'll open everything else." I cannot remember one SINGLE Christmas where anybody paid the slightest attention to this at all.
Then we will all troop down to the den and watch the two things that Sarah and I most love...the proper Grinch (i.e., animated, with Boris Karloff), and the proper Christmas Carol (with Alastair Sim).
After which, of course, I will cook roast beast and potatoes and that vegetable, whatever it may be, and we will have our flaming plum pudding with hard sauce.
And I will go to bed, secure in the knowledge that once again, I have pulled off Christmas.
The very merriest of Christmases, or whatever, to all of you!