Wife Phyl and I are spending Christmas in Baltimore with her son Tad, Lindy and the three kids: Lucas, Landon, and Hayden, ages, 5 - 3 - and 1, respectively.
If old Bar was still partaking of the hard stuff a fifth of Cutty would have been high on HIS Santa stocking stuffer list.
My septugenarian head has been spinning like that kid from "The Exorcist". What goes around - comes around.
They kids are cute, personable as all get out, talkative and active. The emphasis here is definitely on the word "Active".
We have witnessed more blocking at the knees, head-on collisions, and neck high tackles than took place in Sunday's Raven/Patriots game.
Despite what I have just written - the little guys are a total delight and remind me much of what it was like to have 4 tots of my own at this time of year.
They were all also running around in anticipation of the big fat guy in the red suit who, even then, had a real hangup about flying bell-ringing reindeer.
Being here is a little like riding a bike again. You quickly recognize the sound and tone of a kids cry as one that is caused by sleep deprivation and confirms the dire need of a good nap.
So, Bella and I went upstairs - closed the door - and took one.
Thursday is my scheduled flight to Pittsburgh, celebrating the holidays with those former tots I referenced above; three of whom have nine of my grandkids between them.
Thankfully, none of the grandkids are still young enough to enjoy tackling or attempting to smother their siblings with couch pillows.
But, then again, I'm not confident enough to seek confirmation of my assumption.
Tad is half my age and is constantly down on the floor playing with the kids - practicing moves and rough play with them that I was sure I alone had invented.
Phyl and I have decided: "Being a spectator is good!" Neither of us has felt the slightest compunction to volunteer as a tag team wrestling participant.
I'm enjoying the kids, but am very content to leave Phyl behind in Baltimore,
baking from recipes more diversified than any that Betty Crocker ever thought of.
Of course, that was also back in the day when another Betty, named Furness, was on live TV struggling with those stubborn Westinghouse refrigerator doors.
Times are indeed different in 2013, but it's still nice to relive those old fashioned memories for this Christmas blog.
My attitude is: "Been there - done it and I'm more than thrilled to just sit, taste, and watch."
Phyl swears what Tad gave - he is now receiving.
In her words: "the circle of life has now completed itself."
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