So, it was hilarious when at the annual family Christmas gathering, there were three independent events all commenting on the same exact subject of Old Crow. Not even kidding.
Uncle Number 1: Bridget, this Old Crow is from 2003. How old were you in 2003? And why isn't it gone yet?
Uncle Number 2: Bridget, seriously, you have half a bottle of Old Crow left. Why did your brother not make you drink this on your birthday?
Cousin Number 1: Bridget, when did you turn 21? Wasn't that four years ago? I think you're the only one in the family to take this long to drink your Old Crow.
My response: Oh my WORD. Do you people think I don't drink? I've gone through two handles of Old Crow in Boston, I promise I drink! I just haven't spent much time in Minnesota since I turned 21!
They all just look at me, thinking I'm making excuses. So I take a shot. And five minutes later, another. Jeesh.
But the other best story about my Christmas was this little lady:
My mom gave her a set of plastic food and an apron to go along with Santa's gift, a play kitchen! And boy oh boy was she ever a great cook!
Ayden and Hillary, kept in a bedroom for most of the afternoon, were let out once, and Ayden ran right for the bright pink apron-clad young cousin of mine, practically knocking her over. She's used to giant dogs, though, so she was a champ through the whole thing.