Griswold Vacation Memories and Other Things You Should Know About Me

I was thinking back on our Griswold Christmas vacation gone wild this morning; all the fond memories of family and fun—and it all boiled down to one sweet thing.

Cake.

So, not really. But that did get me thinking about cake and how I really don’t ever want to eat cake with a spoon.

And I will only eat cake with a fork.

Even if it has ice-cream on the side.

So please don’t serve me cake with a spoon.

I also love cupcakes. Like the ones served on our second mock Christmas down in Florida with the pirates family.

I don’t necessarily need a fork for cupcakes, but definitely not a spoon. That’s just wrong.

I’m particular about certain things when it comes to entertainment. Here are some things about me you might not know, or care to know, or give a hoot to know, or give a ham sandwich to know.

Here they are anyway.

My criteria for squeezing the pulp out of celebrations and making kick ass memories.

(Sometimes the word butt just doesn’t bring it home. Ya know? You smell what I’m stepping in?)

First, if I’m gonna make a memory, I like a lot of smiles.

And cupcakes.

That’s my girl. She has a cute smile and makes good cupcakes. Brat.

I enjoy watching others doing the cupcake squat exercises. Clearly that works for her.

I happen to enjoy eating cupcakes. I haven’t tried exercising with them yet.

Also, I find extreme joy in anything that is uniquely noteworthy.

Like a ginormous music note ornament dangling from my father-in-laws right ear. Don’t ask me what the ham sandwich. A bunch of rowdies these people are.

I also love music and singing. Especially singing. Even though I can’t. But I do. In fact, last night I was really into singing the sound of music soundtrack—much to my mans suffering ears. Did you know that the hills are alive with the sound of music? And I am 16 going on 17? Not really. Either of those. But I like to sing them.

It’s just not a party without music. Or an entire music band. A few good show-tunes and Dancing Queen. I love me some Dancing Queen. Who doesn’t? I want to know.

So, I love music. As long as I’m allowed to sing. As loud as I want. At any time. Day or night.

That ‘s a lot of grandchildren right there. Where ya running off to pappy? We promise not to leave you with all the little monsters. For very long.

The happy meter just doesn’t even begin to get warmed up unless there is lots of cheering, and rowdiness. I like a lot of Whoooooooooooohs. Real loud. Is that coming across right? I mean like: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOH.

Try it.

Are you getting the feel for it?

It’s hard to convey with words. Maybe we need a youtube demonstration. I have a cousin named Lisa that is especially good at that. She brings a whole new meaning to the whooooh factor. I love her for that. Although I am not sure she would love me for sharing this talent with the world. Let’s change the name to Leeza. I think that was a Sound Of Music Character. Or Leezle. Or was it Gretle? I’m confused. And dehydrated.

I also like games. As long as I don’t have to play—’cause I don’t like to lose. Unless it’s John’s money. Which is was. Sorry about that, John.

I’ll pay ya back. I promise. In berger cookies. K?

Singing, dancing, light-up, shaking it and movin’ it hats are an absolute must in my book of making memories criteria and if you really loved me you would wear one. Or two. At the same time. I’m not difficult to please. Much. There’s those cupcakes again.

There are so many things that go into making good memories. All the above and so much more. Had I not made an obligation to take a 2-hour nap today, I would really elaborate upon the endless ways we find to squeeze the pulp out of our celebrations, but I did–ya know—make that obligation. Geeze, Louise. The things I get myself into. I just need to learn to say “no.”

Or just take more naps.

So I will close with these thoughts.

Please pay attention because this is very important and I only have time to say it once. The whole nap thing is time consuming.

I will………………………………………………….COLOR ON YOUR FACE.

If you invite me to drive 900+ miles with triplets plus 2 in our souped up Griswold-mobile with dry rotted tires and brakes that are about to drop from the belly of the vehicle—insist I spend the night at your house for a pajama party and then fall asleep while the rest of us are still making memories….

I will color on your face—-because I love you and your heart nose and twirly whiskers and penciled in soul-patch. I will. I WILL.

Seriously, I totally will.

And because your hubbs paid me $1,000,000,000.00 to do it.

Don’t act all surprised. You know you did. I have eye-witnesses–that I could pay to lie. I’m still waiting for my check. Heh hum.

And then I will paint your face some more and make fun of your ho-ho stockings. You little ho-ho.

Mmmm. I love ho-ho’s. Because your hubbs paid me and extra $500,000.00 to do that.

And then I will put it on my blog.

For free. ‘Cause I’m all generous like that.

I’m a lover.

Not a briber.

All in the name of making memories—and utter adoration for you. Of course.

I promise to do a better face painting job next time if you swat less and keep more still.

I have so much more to share about our Griswold Family Vacation, but there is that nap—oh—-and a few checks that I expect to be running up to the bank. Cha-ching. Thank gawd, since we just had to replace nearly every part on the griswold-mobile.

Hope you all are making some kick butt memories today.

(See what I mean. The whole butt thing just isn’t the same.)

Go kick some ass, people.

Who wants to have me for a sleep over next weekend?

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Tagged as: Griswold Christmas, I will paint your face, making memories, Squeezing the Pulp

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