Witness. We took some pictures the night of the office Christmas party, which she hosted at her home.We didn't even make it inside before we were shamed. And Mom is going to have my hide for this next one, but:
I mean...it IS a pair, so lends itself to the obvious cheap joke. When your balls are this size, they should be on display, right?Come in, and be greeted by DeNiro Santa. "You lookin'at me?" He's only the first of many, I assure you. There is a "more than equal-time" policy for Jesus, though, as the many Nativity scenes are given prominence over everything else.She had the dining room looking gorgeous;Alex and I hardly ever get to eat in there. I can't imagine why. Come on around into the kitchen now, and greet our hostess;Cheerily stirring the sauce for the bread pudding. Seriously, folks--how does she look younger than I do, and from whence cometh this energy?MMmmmmmm....the Super-Delicious Potatoes of Death. Sure, they'll kill you with saturated fat, but you won't care.This was table #2, in the kitchen dining area...Alex and I don't get to sit there, either.Santas are everywhere--resistance is futile.He sees you eyin' those pies.Don't try slipping out the back door, either.What, thought you'd get some Santa-sanctuary in the guest bathroom? The ho-ho-ho's on you, Bub!This is the centerpiece from the 4x4' "kids' table" where Alex and I sit on such occasions and plot pranks to play on the grownups.I'm assuming Mom picked this tree because they didn't have any BIG ones. Ha!
"But Belinda," you insist, "Surely you, being the queen of Southern Living that you are, have equally fabulous decorations adorning your home? The one you're about to move out of?" Well, since you asked...Um, in my kitchen? There's this festive poodle hair-dryer. I'm considering adding some fake snow or tinsel.
The full photo set is up on flickr .