This year for the first time in an oh-so-long time, my holidays include someone outside the Estrogenpalooza of my life. And with the welcome addition of Scout, I've noticed, with some amusement, certain behavioral changes within the Tuna household. To whit:
I wash my dishes with somewhat more regularity. The olive fork, the garbage disposal spoon (you know, the one that became unintentionally serrated and now sits in the way, way back of the drawer) and the pile of sporks heisted from the local 7-11 have returned to their dusty, lonesome existence.
I am more certain that my bathroom remains fully stocked and that all porcelain entities receive regular exorcisms from His Holiness, Mr. Clean. Additionally, the quality of reading materials has been vastly upgraded to include recent publications, an essay book, a puzzle book, AND a functioning pen (complete with backup functioning pen. No pencils allowed). There is nothing worse than an unsolved crossword puzzle mocking you because the pen ran dry and you can't reach the eyebrow pencil (which really makes quite a mess).
Christmas decorations have been appearing in a timely manner. This is practically unheard of in my house, because December is the month of insanity. At last count the Tuna calendar shows rehearsals, dress rehearsals and/or concerts every single day between December 1st and December 17th. I. Kid. You. Not. This means haphazard decorating (motivated entirely by parental guilt) happens somewhere around December 23rd, and is taken down January 2nd because I can't stand it anymore. The only benefit to my holiday procrastination of yore is that you can get a pretty decent chocolate buzz when you have to open up 23 doors in one sitting on your Advent calendar.
I'm excited to share our family nuttiness and traditions of the season: We buy our tree from the "Send-a-Kid-to-Camp" place sponsored by the YMCA. The only thing necessary to make a tree stand up straight is some folded up newspapers or a paperback novel. We save stuff like 1st grade homemade ornaments and proudly display them on the tree in embarrassing tribute to those who made 'em (I can't wait to find LittleBroTuna's pretzel with an oyster cracker glued on top). And when the tree is all decorated, we turn off all the lights except the tree, sit on the couch and listen to Silent Night. We might be a little more crowded this year, but something tells me I won't mind it one bit.