My dad would come up with elaborate ways to hide the stocking. Each Christmas we had a list of rules we had to follow and clues to lead us to the hidden treasure. The whole lead up was thrilling, but the stockings, oh the stockings! My mom was a master of cramming as much good stuff as she could into the foot-shaped sacks.
I think we did the treasure hunt until I was about 22 (my dad does it now for Ellery). When we gave up the hunt, neither Liz or I could quite bear the idea of giving up our mom's amazing stockings.
When Andy and I got married
I think he was REALLY intimidated
by my mom's stocking.
We've had to make new rules for
stockings in our house.
As adoring and clever as Andy is,
I just don't think a boy can
stuff a stocking the same way
a girl, especially a mom, can.
The solution we came to was what we call our Stocking Lunch. We put an afternoon date on the calendar and meet to exchange stockings. My mom makes one for Lizzie and one for me, and Liz and I work together to fill up a stocking for my mom.
To this day we have never achieved as awesome of a presentation as she gives us every year, but we keep trying!
Today was our Stocking Lunch. Oh how I love being with my mom and sister!
Lunch was yummy and our stockings were lavish and we laughed a lot. There is something wonderful about sitting in public, digging through one of the icons of Christmas that is usually reserved for children and surrounding yourself with heaps of festive wrapping paper (my mom wraps each individual item that goes into the stocking).
We all ordered the same thing for lunch so when the check came we asked the waitress to split it an even three ways. It was then that, gasp! I realized that my mom and sister had ordered sodas and I only had water.
Oh the injustice!
Not like it was a big deal at all, but we decided that they would put the tip on their cards and everything would even out. Which it did.
But after all of our stocking jollity I think we were a little rummy. I started babbling on about how I had to leave my tip line blank and I didn't want the waitress to think I was cheap or mean. Then I rambled about leaving a note to explain the arrangement we made at our table:
"Dear Waitress, your service was excellent. I'm sure you noticed I didn't leave a tip, but it is because I didn't order soda and my dining companions did, so my tip is included on their tab. Thanks for the great meal!"
We were all laughing at the ridiculousness of it and then my mom and Liz ganged up on me and kept saying, "Do it!"
And you know what...
I put an asterisk on the tip line that lead her to the back of the receipt and to my explanation. Regardless of the fact that I feel really silly and totally suckered by my mom and sister, I'm finding solace in the fact that the waitress probably had a really great story to tell when she went home.
That's what I'm about. Making other people's day.
Thanks for another amazing stocking mom!