Wishes and Fishes

Have I mentioned that I love Christmas? Yeah, well, I do. This Christmas Eve though, did not top the charts for favorite Christmas Eves. Justin took the kids to do his family's celebration which is how we always spent the night in the past, only for me, pretty weird to not be with them this time. Went to a small dinner party where we were basically served every food I hate worst in the world...shrimp, salmon, fruit cake... (Can't believe how that worked out, I felt like such a picky freak.) Kind of funny really. Anyway, when I got home the kids were already asleep from THEIR drive home. No reading Twas The Night Before Christmas, no putting out the milk and cookies, no tucking in excited little boys, asking when Santa will come. I spent an hour or so bringing down the gifts and filling the stockings. Afterward, I was so frozen I took a hot shower to warm up before climbing into bed around midnight. And then, laying in bed, of course I got to feeling all sorry for myself, fish for dinner, missing our usual Holiday traditions, all alone in my huge bed for the first Christmas Eve in as long as I can remember. I started thinking about whispering "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Birthday" or any of those special things to someone first thing in the morning, and I'd just rolled out the first two, big, fat tears onto my pillow, when I heard coughing and went in the next room to find Ira throwing up. Many hours later, as daylight breaks, I'm still up, having had not one single minute of sleep, really, really tired, and somewhat regret my wish to not be alone in my cold, king sized bed. Now I'm certainly not alone, but the bed is rank smelling and I get to clean up puke every twenty minutes, so be careful what you wish for, you just might get it. Especially on Christmas when wishes magically come true.