Last night I snapped my yearly Christmas photo of the wigglies.
Herding a group of three legged pigs up the sand dunes would have been an easier task.
As I sat with finger poised over the magic button, three moms danced, made faces and threatened lives behind me. Going to bed early and Christmas presents taken away didn’t seem to be of concern with this boisterous bunch. They were cranked tighter than a cat with his tail caught in the dryer door.
Once we were sure we had a picture that didn’t have any kids looking like they were possessed we gave up the battle.
We had two birthdays to celebrate. Son #2 and Wigglie #2 birthdays are a day apart. Wiggle #2 is son of Son #2. Now that you are all confused, see pictures below.
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| Wigglie #2 |
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| Son #2 |
Wigglie #2 wanted a “snake” cake. This was my poor attempt at the reptilian recipe. All were impressed and the wigglies wanted to eat the rocks.
Son #2 always requests Red Velvet Cake for his birthday. And, he always eats enough of it to feel sick afterwards – another family tradition we continue.
After the cakes were devoured a group effort ensued in pooch photog. I thought it would be so cute to have the three goldens dressed in their Christmas cheer have a group photo for our Christmas card.
Charlie, the dad, is laid back and will do whatever you tell him. In fact, this year he made his acting debut in our church Christmas program (which I happened to co-write with my gal pal Lynda Vermeer Schab)
Time for a commercial break: We will be having an encore presentation of How Christmas Saved the Grinch, this Sunday night, December 18, 6:00PM at ResLife Church in Grandville, MI. For more info: www.reslife.org. You really don’t want to miss this.
Bella, the mom mongrel is somewhat compliant. She will settle down and wasn’t too bad.
Then, there’s the son, Zeus, who is as squirmy as a worm on a hook. He’s not even a year old so his idea of sit still is nonexistent.
Son #2 put forth a valiant effort with dogged (sorry) determination to get the photo.
It didn’t help much that all the cake filled wigglies were bouncing around off the furniture and climbing the draperies while we were working at catching the furry family’s perfect expression.
The families left two by two and four by five until they were all out the door.
It was so quiet I could hear my heart beating. I actually enjoyed it, for a few minutes. But, I think I am wired for my wigglies. Can’t wait for the door to fly open and hear “Grama! I’m here.”
