I went to the grocery yesterday and, this being that time of the year, things were a bit crowded. Something happened near the end that made up for the whole ordeal though, when I got to the cash register. The bagger, a young man, asked me hesitantly if I was a writer. I thought that maybe I reminded him of a specific writer he had seen the photo of, but, no, it's just that I looked like his idea of a writer. Curse that casual and yet elegant attire of mine. Curse that silver mane of mine. Of course, the young woman working at the cash register had to deflate the whole thing by saying she didn't think I looked like a writer.
Besides that, we had a sort-of pre-Christmas family gathering. Some of those cartoon DVDs did come in handy to keep my 6-year-old nephew entertained, the Bugs Bunny ones anyway. He apparently isn't into superheroes anymore. I guess he's growing up. I guess I'll eventually stop being the coolest uncle. Oh well. At least there was my 11-month-old nephew who was quite wary of me at first, but eventually decided I was ok once he touched that hairy thing growing on my chin. There were even times when he'd waddle around following me.
In case we don't 'see' each other for a few days...
Merry Christmas to you all!