The Toxic Housewife

Handmade White Bear Hat Through a combination of his own doing and (I believe) subtly implanted suggestions from S.B., all Mr. C would say he wanted for Christmas this year was, "A white bear hat and a box." S.B. went all out and got a large armchair-sized box from our local furniture outlet.  It now sits in the middle of the living room, and all the boys in my family have spent many enjoyable hours in this man-cave of theirs.

Firstly, might I congratulate myself on my ONE HUNDREDTH POST!  Were I a celebrity, this would be the part where all my famous friends come out and we do an entire episode recapping our favoirte moments and showing how important we are.  I felt that was too pretensious, however, so decided to keep my ONE HUNDREDTH POST a low-key affair. As a way of thanking you, my five loyal readers (plus the spammers in Malaysia), I will instead dedicate this post to another celebratory topic: informing you how to prepare a feast for The Perfect Holiday Potluck Open House . . . Toxic Housewife-style.

Last week, a friend and I went to the holiday ice skating show put on by our local skating club.  The show included skaters aged from approximately four to seventy, featured a dazzling array of costumes, props, and musical numbers, and mostly served to drive home one fact to me: I'm a real bitch.

Bee and I are definitely a couple that has inside jokes.  Honestly, if you're with someone long enough, how can you not?  You get to the point where certain things make sense only to you and your significant other, and that's OK.  It's actually a good thing, because mundane things can remind you of your unity.  And -- call me old-fashioned -- but I happen to think that at least a little bit of unity is important in a relationship.