My mother liked it, I think, but . . . I don't know whether the ratio of her appreciation to the amount of time/work went into it was what I was hoping for. I love the colors, but . . . I think it ended up being too Aztec-looking, or something. I guess it doesn't matter, though. She liked her other gifts, and my dad loved his stuff (especially The Boy's framed drawing of the car my dad is restoring), and everyone was happy.
I have to admit that I'm starting to like Christmas less and less. Christmas morning with The Boy and his dad was wonderful and happy and peaceful and fun (we spent hours eating cookies and fruit and playing MarioKart and The Price is Right on the Wii), but the rest of the time left me feeling drained. Everyone is too loud, and I'm too likely to take the easy way out and hide on the porch with the old men and the smokers.
Maybe I won't quite say Humbug, but I'm glad, glad, glad it's over, and I can enjoy some silence.
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