Okay. So there were a few low moments during the holidays. But let me just zero in on the major cause of my holiday discomfort. Not that there weren’t other down moments. I mean there were definitely other moments. I would hate to leave you with the impression that everything is peaches and roses and a sprinkling of jasmine pot-pourri at the Daveys. Like, for example, when my sister called me sobbing with: “Dr. Lee fucked up!” on the 23rd to recount how Dr. Lee had removed a stitch too early and her wound had zigzagged open—that was a down moment. My sister, who is as much drama queen as me, was spinning the tale so vivid, I could vision the innards of her hand oozing out on to Dr. Lee’s white coat while navigating my car through the confines of Sherway mall.
Yeah, so bascially that sucked.
Other things that troubled: Elsie had a fever for two days before Christmas causing us to fear the very worst—namely swine flu leading to death. That most definitely troubled.
Oh yeah, and then there was Boxing Day (the 26th for all you Americans) at which point Simon, Elsie and I decided to venture outside for a quick outing. Because I insisted on coffee (not that I have anything resembling an addiction) and none of our coffee spots were open, we ended up at Chapters. I suggested Elsie might like to play with the train in the kids section while Simon and I shared our Grande beverage (we are economical when we want to be—just putting that out there). We wandered back to the kids section and nudged Elsie toward the train set. Go, daughter. Play, play with the strange children. Daddy and I will be over here on these child-sized neon chairs enjoying the festive day and perusing the self-help rack. No sooner did we sit down did a girl, age 10 (at least), approach the train set and start ramming her train around the tracks amidst four other little aggressive boys. The girl was too old to be at the train set which disturbed the little boys. She also had a pretty large head which seemed to jar them as well. And they kept telling her to get lost. Fortunately she was blissfully unaware of her status among them, and just kept driving her train around the track. Forcing it through any blockade. Including Elsie. Elsie also blissfully unaware stood agog sucking the Thomas bridge, standing back on occasion for this force of a girl to pass.
It was uncomfortable.
Simon finally turned to be and said, “The train is really fun. Can we go now?”
At which point we pulled Elsie back in our direction and left the store. So fun that Boxing Day outing with the nice children spreading holiday cheer.
But all of this is just a lead up to the real self-afflicted bummer.
Let’s call this the peeler blog from her on in, ’cause that’s what I did over the holidays. An intensive facial peel. If you’re not familiar with peels, this might not seem like such a big deal. A little exfoliation can only be a good thing, right? Yes. Sometimes. But I didn’t do a little exfoliation. I did supreme exfoliation that takes like two weeks before life—aka your face—returns to normal. Christmas was the time to do it because I wasn’t working. But I forgot about wanting to live a usual life during the holidays and enjoy fun outings in the public. All to say the progression from seriously bad tan to flaking ogre was…trying. Not wanting to leave the house and thus house-bound for ten days including New Years…also trying. And then feeling like I had to explain when I did see people, once again…trying and actually kind of awkward. Yikes.
Thankfully Elsie didn’t care what I looked like, so we were best buddies. And like I said yesterday, I am the apple of her eye, which is simultaneously flattering and frustrating. Elsie, in one minute I am going to walk five paces to the left. I’m just warning you. Okay, it’s time now. Sure you can come. Elsie, I am going to go to the bathroom now. Would you like to come with me or stay with Daddy and eat handfuls of sugar? You want to come with me? I suspected this might be the case.
Come along.
