And somewhere a Solid Gold dancer is missing her jacket
In all the excitement of the Aggies beating the hell outta t.u., I almost neglected to talk about what we did the weekend before Thanksgiving. And trust me, there is a lot to tell.
Gulley and I took the kids to Bryan for a little thing called Santa’s Wonderland, which y’all have to admit is a catchy name for a Christmas-themed village. Much better than their original choice which was Santa’s Mediocre Village.
We arrived in Bryan and hadn’t even gotten the bags unloaded when Nena called and told us that we had to come visit because she had something for the kids. The thing about Nena is she always has something for everyone and you never know what you’re going to get. Remember this shirt?
Classic.
In fact, last time I visited I just barely got out of her house without a four foot tall letter M painted gold. She had originally bought it for Gulley’s mama whose name starts with M, but for some reason Gulley’s mama declined to seize the opportunity to make a four foot tall letter M part of her décor. Nena was just sick that I left her house without that M.
And truth be told, so was I.
I could have found a matching P for P and hung them over the head of our bed. We’d be kind of like Laverne DeFazio, except we wouldn’t be bottlecappers for Schotz brewery.
Anyway, we headed over to Nena’s. She was watching “What Not To Wear” and was quick to tell us the woman looked liked she needed to be ARRESTED for indecent exposure.
I bet she forgot her stole.
She’d bought cute snowmen for the kids and then told me she found a jacket in the back of her closet that she just had to show me. She came out holding what can only be described as something Diana Ross might have in her closet.
Except more flamboyant.
She wanted to know where I thought she could wear it and, other than a roller derby, I was fresh out of ideas. I told her I wasn’t sure but it was probably too dressy for breakfast. She was quick to inform me that it would be perfect for holiday shopping because really “It’s CASUAL because it has ribbed knit cuffs. IT’S LIKE A SWEATER!”
Sure it is.
But she was so excited about it that she let me take a picture of her modeling it and was thrilled to know it would be seen by the “MILLIONS of people who read Big Mama”.
Yes, I have somewhere between ZERO and a million readers.
On Sunday we went back over to Nena’s. Uncle Johnny and Uncle Glen were over at the house eating lunch. They were all abuzz about the number of folks that are leaving Central Baptist Church for First Baptist Church. It seems there has been some kind of drama. Uncle Glen says Central Baptist needs to do what his church did and start serving real wine for communion. Ever since they wheeled in that piano and started serving alcohol, attendance has skyrocketed.
They’re up to 98 members. 98 members who enjoy imbibing while listening to a little piano music on a Sunday morning.
Uncle Glen was also lamenting his woman troubles. He can’t seem to find a nice girl. A few minutes later he was watching Gulley’s boys play and told her, “You’d make a good cow. You drop huge stock but you don’t eat much.”
I think I might have a clue as to why he’s having woman problems. Call me oversensitive, but it was always a dealbreaker once I was compared to livestock.
On Sunday night we went to Santa’s Wonderland. The kids loved every minute of it.
They played in the snow.
They sat on Santa’s lap.
They rode a mechanical bull.
You can’t teach that kind of bullriding skill. It’s just inherent.
Truth be told, I was a little concerned about the whole bullriding thing. Not because of the safety or anything, but just concerned it might start Caroline down a path that will lead to her marrying a boy whose idea of love is to have his and her license plates in the back window of his truck. And she’d have to listen to things like “Sissy, get me my cigarettes.”
Maybe I’m just overprotective because after watching Urban Cowboy as an impressionable 5th grader, my life dream for a few years was to ride the bull at Gilley’s.
I’m not proud.
Anyway, they finished off the night with a hayride and cotton candy. Lots of cotton candy.
That is pure, unmitigated joy.
