Merry Christmas, all.
Ivy keeps telling me she wants a ballerina for Christmas, and I think she means an actual, human dancer. Not a tu-tued doll. Not a portrait of a sugar plum fairy. A living, breathing, woman who will twirl on command when Ivy, as she describes it, "turns a key." So if anyone knows where I might procure an indentured servant of sorts, do let me know. Meanwhile, Ramona tries to consume pine needles, Ollie grows ever fatter from dropped Christmas cookies, I resist the urge to drive to Target and walk the holiday aisles just one more time, and Stephen risks his life hanging our Christmas lights.
And, of course, we make gingerbread houses with my family. And you vote for your favorite. The winner of the poll will receive a large sum of money and the Republican presidential nomination. That's not true. But they will have a somewhat valid excuse to be completely insufferable and braggy for the next year until someone inevitably creates a more breathtaking and absurd sugar monstrosity.
Until then, cast your vote for one of the following:
A. Nyan Cat
B. Moonscape
C. LDS Temple. This may or may not be the most sacrilegious entry to date.
D. Carriage Ride
E. House of Ivy
F. Playground
G. The Three Little Pigs
Go ahead. Give em a click. Think long and hard before making your choice. The Morley Family hierarchy can only be determined once the masses have decided who among us can best wield a piping bag and box of grahams.
Once you know, vote below:
Once you know, vote below: