The festivities began with a pretty dress and sparkle party shoes . . .
Then we were off to Katie's house for the annual gathering with our family and my sister's husband Justin's family.
Here I am putting my game face on . . .
It is my don't mess with my concentration I'm about to pick the best number face.
The best number means you choose your ornament last, and can steal from anyone who has gone before you. As you can see, it is a game of pure skill.
(except for the whole celebration of the birth of Christ thing) is the
Ornament Exchange.
It is a cut-throat, take no prisoners, do-whatever-it-takes-to-leave-with-the-best-ornament exchange. (Although it seems every year I'm the only one who takes this quite so seriously.)
Here I am putting my game face on . . .
It is my don't mess with my concentration I'm about to pick the best number face.
The best number means you choose your ornament last, and can steal from anyone who has gone before you. As you can see, it is a game of pure skill.
Katie cheated. But anyway . . .
Nana began the game by choosing the largest gift bag. The largest gift bag ended up being a terrible choice because it contained this . . .
It was brought by
After publicly chastising him for screwing with my game, I suggested he not be invited next year. I threatened a little bodily harm for good measure. Merry Christmas Todd, but you don't mess with the ornament exchange. You just don't.
The moment I first laid eyes on it, I know it had to be mine. Visions of stealing it began dancing in my head.
I knew better than to tell John to steal it for me. He never listens to me during the ornament exchange.
Remember that beautiful ornament I just had to have? It was most certainly
I felt pretty good, too, about not having to steal from a little kid like last year.
Then it was stolen from me.
I almost threw a temper tantrum.
Ok, I actually did throw a temper tantrum. Then I stole another ornament.
*insert another much bigger temper tantrum*
I ended up stealing the ornament I brought myself.
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