Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal

my christmas tree

I do love this Christmasy time of year.  And as always, it’s eventful in my sister’s house.  And as always, I get woken up by someone for sleeping late.  This time it was the niece who came to my room and went, “wake up ya lazy head.”  I did NOT teach her that, but apparently someone else did.  I asked for 5 more minutes then she tattled on me that I wouldn’t get out of bed, so I was threatened.  2 year olds.

When we left for the second part of the day, I had to ride with my dad.  Sweet baby Jesus.  For one, it’s a great thing I didn’t take a nap cause we would have ended up at the Dulles airport or in the heart of DC.  My dad knows how to get to a ton of places, but he does not pay attention to where he’s going.  At the toll, he put is in the cash one for the airport.  Then in lower Rockville, he thought he recognized where we were, but made a wrong turn and I had to get us back on the right track.  Not to mention he drives in the middle of the road and jerks the car when he realizes he’s going to hit another car.  It’s no wonder that I feel the urge to puke when someone says “you’re riding with Dad.”  So after praying so hard that I would survive this hour drive, we arrived at our destination.

On the way home, he drove in the middle of the road, stopped at a green light, almost ran a red light and I texted a friend saying pray for me, I might not make it.  Then, when we were 5 minutes from the house, he stopped the car in the middle of the road.  BACKED UP in the middle of the road, close to a hill where a car could come flying up and hit us.  I asked what on earth he was doing.  His reply?  “I want to look at that herd of deer.” dead serious.

Advertisements
Tagged , , , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: