Get back, Ebenezer Scrooge. Friday evening the Husband and I ventured out to finish our Christmas shopping for the kids. We accomplished it, but we were not having much fun. First, we left around 6pm to drop off my stepson to his mother. This was after she was shitty with me about meeting somewhere different than where we normally meet. Now, take note that I suggested we meet CLOSER TO WHERE SHE LIVES INSTEAD OF THE USUAL PLACE WHICH IS CLOSER TO US, NOT HER! Why be shitty with me over that? Exactly!
After dropping Pak off, we headed to Greenwood where there are many stores that SHOULD'VE had the items we needed. I said "should have". Through all of the hustle and bustle, there was much fright. You see, the Husband had a moving kidney stone during this entire excursion. Yep. Two pain pills didn't even touch the pain. And, I believe I have mentioned before, he doesn't even like Christmas. Hates it, in fact. So given the conditions, it was pleasantries all around.
We did get finished, returning home after midnight. I had to drive, which I normall don't do when we go somewhere together, and I was in dire need of two toothpicks to hold my eyelids up by the time I was a fourth of the way into my interstate driving toward home. So, Saturday, I slept off and on all day. I didn't get up to stay up until 6pm. I haven't done that without being hungover in years. Years!
Less than two weeks until Christmas. I say, "Eat, drink, and be merry!"; the Husband says, "Bah humbug!"