If you've been around more than one Christmas with me, you probably know about my Mr. Mouth story. It was Christmas, 1978, and I had a bounty of presents waiting under the tree, many I was proud to deliver myself on Christmas Eve.
I got Baribe stuff, of course. I had recently discovered Barbie dolls and wanted to expand my collection. You can only dress up your dolls so many times without boring yourself to tears. I wanted to populate my Barbie universe with all kinds of characters, though I really didn't know why at the time. I think this Christmas I added Barbie #3, along with some clothes and a wicker dining room set. (It was the 70s, after all.)
Though I rarely remember what kinds of gifts I got over the years, this Christmas brought two very monumental gifts. One was an AM/FM radio featuring Sesame Street's Bert and Earnie. The other, was a game called Flippopotamus, a variation of the Mr. Mouth game.
(It's there, right under the aforementioned wicker furniture.)
The mechanical hippo head was attached to four "arms" complete with hands you could operate thanks to the spring mechanism. The object of the game, naturally, was to flip colorful plastic disks into the head as it oscillated around. The person who got all their disks in first, won.
My family didn't really play games much. Honestly, they didn't really connect much. Mom worked full time, and Dad... well Dad had a lot in common with Archie Bunker. He was gruff and argumentative, and for everyone else in my family except me, he was quite the pill. My sister was already a mom herself, so we had nothing, really, in common... except that we couldn't get along. So a game of this nature was a brand new thing for me.
I didn't know this at the time but my mother loved to play games. She loved cards and dominoes, she just couldn't really get anyone on board to play with her. Years later, after my dad passed, we would pass our time playing Hearts, Rummy, Dominoes and Uno - which was one of my mother's favorite games of all time. Nothing tickled her more than to shout out "Uno!" when she was about to win.
Mom didn't have a whole lot of "wins" in her life, so she got a free pass to enjoy it.
Anyway, we got this game and somehow convinced everyone to play it. We set up a card table in the middle of our living room, and I, in my new jammies I also got from Santa that year, sat with my family for an entirely experience.
We. Had. A. Blast. I don't remember a time in the history of my childhood when we had that kind of fun. It was so fun, in fact, that I had to buy a Mr. Mouth for my own kids some twenty years later.
Here, Tim hams it up for Grandma.
Bottom line, you don't remember the stuff. You remember the way the stuff made you feel. The stuff goes away, particularly when you're a kid. I can't tell you how many things I bought for the boys that ended up lost, broken or discarded. But what remained was how we all connected, whether it was the holiday or not.
I'm ashamed to say I haven't played as many games with the kids as they've wanted to. But guess what? It's Christmas. And the best gift of all is that I can turn that all around. We can take the time. We can make new memories.
Of course, now that they're adults we play games like Cards Against Humanity (which I gave to Jer last year,) casino games like blackjack and poker. The heart of the gift, though, remains the same.
So if you're driving yourself crazy over what to get your kids, give them your time. It's the most valuable asset you will ever possess. Make a memory. They last way longer than stuff.
Are you feeling sentimental? I'm feeling sentimental...
(And yes... Hal Sparks is every bit as awesome as that video suggests. Hence why I made it.)
I can't believe it took me until the last year or two to see "It's a Wonderful Life." I have no excuse, really. It's a movie tailor-made for me. It fits my philosophical bent to the letter, and reminds me why I fight so hard for the causes I do.
And am I the only one who sees some striking similarities between Mr. Potter and a certain other person all over the news? :-X
Honestly, I think this one is going to be a hard one to watch. Jimmy Stewart was my mother's favorite actor, so I know I'll think of her often and miss her twice as much when we watch. I guess I can take comfort in the fact that she already earned her wings. And I hope, no matter what, she can say she had a wonderful life, because I know so many of us wouldn't have been the same without her.
And for our Who-liday... the hardest epi for me to watch. I have to muster up all my stamina to watch it. It is... The End of Time, where we bid adieu to my doctor, #10 - David Tennant, and make way for #11, Matt Smith.
I didn't watch it while it aired. I refused. And I refused to watch the first season with Matt. Though I only have one heart, I loved #10 enough for two. Eventually I came around and warmed up to Matt, but I refused - REFUSED - to watch the episode where Ten regenerated. As far as I was concerned, if I didn't see it... it didn't happen.
(Yes, I realize I've gone over to the Geek side. What can I say? Steven was a carrier.)
It would take many Christmases later, when Steven was balls deep in a Doctor Who marathon, that I was ambushed with the episode.
I just can't...
It's a Whoovie sob-a-thon. (Told you I was feeling sentimental.)
Spent most of the day working, so I didn't have time for the #bakeitforward challenge, (as per usual,) so instead I'll feature another recipe that my mom loved.
Today's treat: MISSISSIPPI MUD CAKE
My mom made this decadent treat with an unappetizing name around 1980. With cocoa and marshmallows and a rich, fudgy, nutty brownie base, it is practically Christmas in a pan. Jeff and I had already become friends by the time she rolled out this treat, and I decided to take a piece to school to share it with him. He was rather put off by the name, reluctant at first to give it a go. It's gooey, with crackled sweet chocolate right on top, so it really does look like something you'd dig up.
One taste, though, and he was in heaven. We've decided to make this treat the next time I visit him in Texas, in honor of my mom.
Word of warning, though. It is really, REALLY sweet. Like divinity, or fudge, a couple of other things my mother loved. Take it to a gathering so you can spread the riches among many. You'll regret it if you don't. I have the thighs to prove it.
For today's freebie, I offer THE UNDISCIPLINED BRIDE, one of my standalone books that was probably the most surprising of mine to write. I hated the heroine at first. She was such an entitled princess. And I had no idea how a couple of supporting characters would demand that their story be told as well. Eventually, though, they all won me over. I was proud to be a part of their story, even if it was mostly just as a spectator/stenographer.
An excerpt:
“Do you have a cigarette?”
“I do,” a deep, masculine voice said from behind. She whirled around to find Mateo leaning against the open door frame in his tuxedo like some leading man from a movie from the golden age. She watched his hand reach deep into his pants pocket to withdraw a pack. His fingers were long and strong as he withdrew a cigarette for her, offering it just a few paces away from where she stood, making her cross the final steps between them.
She snatched it from his hand. He had the nerve to chuckle. “What’s so funny?” she demanded.
“You don’t strike me as the kind of person who smokes,” he shrugged. His eyes fell on her mouth as she put the cigarette between her lips.
For a split second all the humor was gone. Instead Peyton saw something else there… something she could control. She saw his hunger. With a slow smile she met his eyes and said, “I guess I have an oral fixation.” To her delight his eyes darkened. “Have a light?”
He withdrew a lighter and this time he closed the scant inches between them to light her cigarette. He watched her suck in a breath as his eyes locked on her mouth. “So what did you think of the food?” he asked softly. "You left in such a hurry," he added with a teasing smile.
She shrugged. “I don’t see what the big deal is, personally,” she offered evilly. The food had been exceptional, but there was no way in hell she’d let him know that.
He chuckled again, the warm sound of his rich, deep laugh tumbled across her senses. “Guess we’ll have to do better next time.”
Her perfectly tweezed eyebrow arched. “What makes you think there will be a next time?”
It was his turn to shrug. “Just a hunch,” he said. His eyelids drooped lazily as he inspected her. “You don’t seem like a woman who will give up on anything until she’s completely satisfied.”
Her chin jutted out. “You’ve got that right, at least.”
His eyes traveled over her face, then down across the exposed skin of her chest and arms. “Damn shame you have gone unfulfilled for such a long time already,” he said softly.
She gulped. “What is that supposed to mean?”
His voice was quiet but powerful. There was a cadence to his speech, as though he was striking every word with a hammer. The softer the words, the harder the hit. “You tell me. When is the last time someone fully met every aching need?” He wanted to know as he stepped closer. “I’ll bet never. And that’s why you’re so pissed off, isn’t it, Princess? You can have everything you want… yet, you never have.”
She shuddered despite herself. “You have a lot of nerve talking to me like that. Don’t you know I could have you fired?”
He stepped even closer, until their bodies were a breath apart. “But you won’t.”
She glared at him. “You’re a cocky son of a bitch, aren’t you?”
Before she realized what was happening his arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her to his rigid body. “You tell me.”
Her brain scrambled as he manhandled her. His grip was strong and true, and if she struggled she would feel every inch of his hard body contained in that fine tuxedo. “Let me go,” she gritted between clenched teeth.
His face was next to hers, his mouth mere inches from her ear. “Is that what you want, princess?” His hand slipped down from her waist over the graceful curve of her ass.
It was inappropriate as hell, and no one – absolutely no one – had ever treated her in such a disrespectful manner. Instead of the anger she would normally feel, for one insane moment she was tempted to reach the remaining inch between them and crash her mouth against his, to taste the raw hunger of this stranger’s kiss once and for all.
Her eyes widened as she pushed against that rigid chest, rippling with muscles she had never experienced so close before. “Fuck you,” she breathed as she stumbled away. She nearly lost her footing and it was Mateo who prevented her from landing face first on the hard concrete.
“Maybe someday,” he said with that same damnable smirk. “But not today.”
With that he left her alone on the terrace as he disappeared back into the kitchen. She nearly snarled with rage as she tossed the cigarette off onto darkness.
Get THE UNDISCIPLINED BRIDE for free, December 18, 2015!
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