You know how they say “you learn something new everyday?”
They’re totally right.
Just this week I learned that our B-Ro is a professional Hallmark ornament mangler. Who knew?!
My grandmother has dedicated a large portion of her life and savings to Hallmark ornaments. You think I’m kidding. She has four children. Seven or more grandchildren (numbers are fluid in our family). Handfuls of great grandchildren. And every year for the last 30 years we have each received ornaments. Not to mention the sets upon sets upon sets she’s stashed away for us. My mom just brought me a trunk-full last week. Now if that’s not considered a “large portion” of life and savings then I don’t know what is.
So it’s with very little pride that I confess that my son seems to be hellbent on ruining my dear grandmother’s life’s work. He’s like Enron, I tell you. Or worse, Bernie Madoff.
He’s single-handedly, systematically dismantling and dismembering the treasures of my childhood. How many more days do I give him before I pack it up and call it a year? I’m not sure my heart (or my Grama’s!) can take much more.
Here’s the problem: Grama chose a series of ornaments for each of her grandchildren. She would buy every ornament in the series each year until the series ran out. For about a dozen years when I was growing up I got the Kiddie Car Classic series. They’re awesome little metal cars and trucks and planes that are…you guessed it…way too tempting for a two year old boy. Why let them hang on the tree when you can catapult them across the room?
Now I hate to cut this little vent session of mine short (really, I do. I could go on. And on.) but I have a few steering wheels, firetruck ladders, princess heads, teacups, a nativity set Mary riding a donkey, and one random homemade cinnamon ornament that needs a bit of attention.
And by attention I mean super glue.
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