For Christmas Eve for the past couple of years, my husband has cooked a fancy dinner for us and his parents. We do a table setting, use the wedding china, and generally eat expensive rich foods while slowly getting trashed on wine or other bevvies. Regardless, we are sophisticated in the name of the holiday spirit.
So, this year was veal and we had some good wines we picked up on a recent trip that we saved for the occasion. We also went to a specialty spice and chocolate shop to pick out some dessert truffles–we landed on some chocolate covered salted caramels. These details are not explicitly relevent to the story–I just thought you should know how fancy we are.
Anyway, I literally put a bite of salad in my mouth when my kid looks at me with a desperate and crinkled face and announces to all, “I’M POOPING!” Right there at the table. Just like I taught her, only the EXACT OPPOSITE.
So I briskly get up to try and prevent a yule log incident that goes beyond implied and in doing so I manage to knock over my husband’s wine–all over the fucking table.
We really did try to be classy. I should know better by now.
P.S. Did anyone get the yule log on their t.v. this year (I mean the real one, not the poop one)? I was sad I couldn’t find it…