It is written ...

Those things which were not foretold have come to pass. I am the chosen one. I accept this as my lot in life at Christmastime. And so it was that I spent twelve hours with my grandmother yesterday. This after spending two and a half hours trying to get twenty children to settle down and practice their roles for the Christmas Program. But that is something I choose to do; this is something I must do. Who, aside from me, cares that I had wonderful plans to attend a progressive dinner yesterday, my grandmother has decided to go shopping, and I am the one who must help her. No one else will do, so armed with a pen, a list of twenty-three people, and a resolve to be patient, I set out to fulfill my Christmas destiny. Any men in my family who may somehow stumble across this, forgive me for spoiling the surprise, but you're getting the same ugly coats you received last year, and the year before that, and they year before that, and so on. Ladies, be grateful if only that I was able to save most of you from the "one size fits most" night gowns. I'm sorry I could not save you all, but after a while, I lose my resolve. Four and a half hours after entering the J.C. Penny's Outlet, we finally emerged with gifts for everyone on her list. I'm told there is a mall attached to this store, but I've never yet made it out of the outlet before the rest of the mall closes. Even as we shopped yesterday, the clerks busily cleaned up for the evening as she checked out. Another four hours later, after making various stops for dinner and to visit one of my grandmother's friends, our journey reached completion as I returned home at 1:30 this morning.

Perhaps the brightest spot to this dotty experience is that the little dog, after having had a day away from my grandmother, no longer appeared stoned. Evidently her drug-induced buzz wears off we give her enough time to detox.