THE CHRISTMAS REPORT, PART ONE

Stewey can't come to the blog right now. He's passed out in front of the fire with all of his new toys surrounding him. Well, not ALL of his new toys exactly, but enough of them that he feels comforted.

The Zhu Zhu was an enormous hit for the full seventeen seconds he got to play with it. After breaking two fingernails and a tiny little screwdriver, I managed to get the battery installed and then put the little gizmo into its "Specialty Play Dome" and let 'er rip. The hilarity that ensued was worth a few pictures, but sadly, I was stunned senseless by the viciousness with which my little nine-pound bundle of love dispatched the "Specialty Play Dome" in hot pursuit of the animal within:

Aunt Chrissy screamed bloody murder, Bosco ran for cover, and I tried not to wet myself as Stewey barricaded himself in a corner with the Zhu Zhu firmly clenched in his little overbite while the wheels on the damn thing whirred away. It was quite a Christmas picture, let me tell you:

Poor little Bosco had a miserable day. With all of the excitement over Stewey and his Zhu Zhu, he got stuck in the "afterthought" category and had the added humiliation of having to pose for pictures sporting his new motorcycle jacket:

"You're kidding me, right? HE pees on everything that moves and gets a Zhu Zhu for Christmas and I get clothes?! Somebody is going to pay for this."

Aunt Chrissy spoiled me rotten with a bus load of marvelous presents (that I'm fairly certain I don't deserve), and she even managed to bring me to the ugly cry at least four or five times.

Bosco gets the award for the best note accompanying a gift...he gave me an autographed copy of Ina Garten's "Back to Basics" (in which she wrote MY ACTUAL NAME! INA GARTEN KNOWS MY NAME!) and in it he wrote "Aunt CJ I spent all of my allowance on long distance talking to Ms. Garten about this gift for you." I, of course, was a puddle of tears before I got to the little paw print signature.

The BIG GIFT for me this year was a Kindle, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I am now a full-blown addict. This morning I downloaded the Sunday edition of the New York Times RIGHT THERE IN MY BIG GIRL SLEIGH BED! and then read it cover to cover before I knew what hit me. This machine is a very very dangerous contraption for somebody like me....now I never need to leave the bedroom, much less the house. I've downloaded a few books to read and have promised myself that I will NOT accumulate a stash of reading material, but we'll see how long that lasts. I mean, how cool is it that you can browse a bookstore at 3am? In your underpants!

Stewey will have lots more to tell you tomorrow, I'm sure. He felt that the level of gift giving this year more than made up for my lousy decorating, so methinks the New Year will usher in a new era of love and obedience around here. In the meantime, we've got a week of precociousness to go, so I'm not going to start celebrating just yet. Damn dog.