Who's Herod?

"Who's Herod in this play?" Claude Herdman

Gladys Herdman: "Uh, Herod isn't in this play."

Leroy Herdman: "You mean he's out to kill the baby, and he isn't even in the play?"

Oh, my. J and I laughed pretty hard at the scene The Herdman family conjures up during this holiday time as we read: The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. I see them slamming the garage door up and down on each other, their hair arranged like a rat's nest, and Imogene Herdman playing Mary in her hiking boots, newly pierced ears and smoking a cigar in the ladies room. Which the church members thought was a fire due to all the smoke. Which is what happened tonight when I realized more late than soon in the game that I failed to pull the flew open...

I simultaneously called Padre at a Christmas party to give him a "heads up" that smoke was rolling out into the living room and NOT up the chimney but not to be alarmed.

I quickly did some calculations on how fast it would leave soot on all the Christmas decorations, had J open the front door and turn on the fan. The padres came home fast, surmised the situation, and left for McD's or something.

When they asked about the fire later on, I said: "What fire?" as casually as I could.

"I sort of thought you recalled how to do that." Padre commented.

I thought I did, too.

Apparently the little latch on the right of the fireplace wasn't connected to the flew. Lesson quickly learned. So much for recreating cozy atmosphere from the other night. Isn't how it is? When you try, it fudges. When you let it happen...

I tucked J in tonight and we lamented about our day. It was a tough one. Besides the lingering smell of smoke in the house, school had gotten out early, friends couldn't play, and he had to go to bball. Which he usually is up for, but today he wanted to do other things- like play bball games, not practice.

Later he confessed he'd ditched the drill part by hanging out dribbling in the racquetball court next to the gym. nice.

I found this out right before parent teacher conference. It must have been a primer.

"I've been in hot water all day." he said matter of fact.

"Me, too." I replied and before I knew it, he was out.

I had to hug him extra tight and laugh at the newspaper print smudge on his nose still from the fire incident. Feeling like a Herdman I had to really wonder if I was stranded in the woods,I could get a fire going. Three days worth of newspapers, a couple of logs from the neighbors, that were dry as a bone, and... nothing.

Granted air helps. But still..... Sigh.

At least Madre's Christmas village isn't smudged over in soot, our house is still intact, and we made it through December 1. 24 more days to go.