Before I post today’s (previously written) entry, let me update you on Snowy real quickly.
He threw up again this morning and did his “trembly, shaky” thing for about half an hour, complete with noisy, raspy breathing. The vet said she definitely needed to see him; even though they’re already double booked this morning, she wants him brought in about 10 o’clock.
I didn’t sleep well last night and have been rather prone to tears since I got up this morning; just feelin’ a little emotional about this doggie child of mine.
He’s in his usual spot—curled up beside me (always on the right side, never the left)--and snoozing away in fine Snowy fashion.
I’ll let you know how the visit goes.
And now . . . . Today’s Post!
Somewhere along the way, our family came up with the very strange annual tradition of making a pancake dinner before we decorate the tree. Nathan and Sarah were asking Steve and me where the tradition came from and when it started and neither of us really had any idea. I guess at some point, we just opted to adopt an odd tradition. (Try saying that three times fast.) And thusly the tradition has stood. For an unbeknownst number of years. Forthwithly.
As the 2010 Version of the Tradition commenced, Nathan, as per usual, was in charge of the scrambled eggs. It is not widely known why college students like to wear t-shirts and basketball shorts in the dead of winter but hey, who am I to tell my 21-year old son how to dress? (Go. Put. A. Sweater. On. NOW!)
Once he got the eggs all cracked he said, “Mom, I need that swirly, stirry thingie.”
The scary thing? I knew exactly what he was talking about.
While he swirled and stirred in his sockless, sweaterless state, his besweatered father labored over the frying of the bacon.
Snowy, enjoying being a part of the Exclusive Fellowship Of The Smith Males, kept a close eye on the proceedings
Then he trotted off to go see how the womenfolk were doing. I know it’s a big name for a small dog, but his official title is “The Smith Kitchen Overseer And Highly Esteemed Cute Canine Connoisseur of Overall Food Quantity and Quality.”
One of the things Snowy happened to witness was this Ritualistic, Traditionalistic, Sibling-istic Passing of the Spatula . . .
. . .which Sarah immediately placed in front of her face. Which is not its natural habitat.
Ahh. That’s better.
I went over to grab the pepper and Steve grabbed a picture of me and my reserved, quiet, and introverted son. And just in case you’re wondering, said son has not shrunk since he was home last. He was just sort of scrunched down so that he looks sorta shorter than me. (Shorter than I? Shorter than I do? Hmmm. I’m never sure of the proper usage in that particular grammatical conundrum.)
And in the end? It all came down to the pancakes.
After Nathan and Steve got their assorted egg and bacon jobs finished, they went over to lend helpful male moral support to Sarah.
I must say that the whole scenario created quite a bit of excitement in the Smith house.
No. We don’t get out much.
Trine, our long time reader from Denmark, brought up an interesting question for our fine Smithellaneous family. She asked what everyone’s religious backgrounds/denominations/beliefs were.
I didn’t put that question in the form of a poll because most people’s responses to that question could not be contained in a one or two word “option.”
A few of you have already answered the question and your responses have been so interesting. If the rest of you would like to jump in, feel free! This is another great way to get to know each other.