"Mama...someone said the f-word."
These words, uttered at a family party on Christmas eve, came out of the mouth of my five year old nephew. They were spoken during a Nielsen family Christmas carol sing-along. I doubt very much that anyone in Wendy's family dropped the f-bomb. The only person there who would even think about doing that is me, and I assure you, it wasn't me. Most of my swearing is done under my breath, sometimes cleverly hidden under a smirk, but rarely on Christmas eve. The vast majority of my swearing is reserved for Christmas morning, when the 'presents' are opened.
There's no doubt that my nephew misheard whatever song was being sung at the time. I've been racking my brain to think what song we/they were all singing. The best that I can come up with is '__ck the halls with boughs of holly, f_ la la la la'.
Kids say the darndest things. I half expect that Art Linkletter and Bill Cosby were somewhere in the room, likely behind the drapes, naked, filming us. Kids make Christmas fun. Art and Bill creep me out.
I have two nieces who I saw on Christmas Day. They don't swear unless their dad teaches them modified lyrics to otherwise wholesome songs. They, particularly the younger one, are obsessed with potty humour and body parts. The younger one made some gingerbread men for Christmas. Actually, the one that was proudly shared with the gathered family wasn't a gingerbread man at all. Clearly it was a gingerbread woman because the careful placement of two pink jelly tots left nothing to the imagination. If Pamela Anderson was a cookie...
My younger niece also put on a impressive dancing display, with a backbeat provided by Lady Gaga and her latest single Bad Romance. The dancing was quite 'mature' for an eight year old, stylized after Dame Gaga's video, but hilarious nonetheless. Normally I'd provide a link to the Gaga gal's video, but we here at theleisurologist.blogspot.com do have certain standards to uphold, so no link will be provided. I want one place on earth to be a Gaga free zone, so it's going to be my blog. I'll never mention her again.
My eighty-two year old mother was given a tiara for Christmas. You can see her image above. She was also given a sash with the words 'The Queen' emblazoned across the front. My mom does a mean impersonation of Queen Elizabeth, so we wanted to give her 'the look' to go along with the sound. She plays the Queen well, occasionally lashing out at Charles and Camilla for their lack of collective fondness displayed toward the corgis.
I wonder what Christmas is like at Buckingham Palace? Do you think Charles sleeps over at his parents' house like I do at mine? Do you think that Camilla cooks pancakes for everyone on Christmas morning? Or do you think that Charles bakes muffins for the other royals in his Easy-Bake oven. I'll just bet he's got one. Damn him! I'll bet the entire royal family just goes gaga when Charles enters the parlour with a basket full of steaming Easy-Bake muffins.
Now that's my idea of a perfect Christmas morning, I swear.
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