Dinner was wafflasagna.

My laptop's broken. It can't seem to make it over the "Windows loading" screen hump. Holding the power button down and shutting it off mid-whir and then restarting it thirty-eight times didn't work, so my expertise is officially tapped. I'll make due with the desktop, I guess, but it sure is a shitload heavier on my legs.

It's been a fairly productive holiday. This morning I was relaxing at the breakfast table enjoying a cup of tea, waiting for Randy to finish whipping up Belgian waffles for seven people, when I announced to the room at large that I'd decided to spend the afternoon making Christmas cookies. The kids looked excited for about a tenth of a second before their eyes went slack with skepticism. They clearly doubted that I would follow through. Just because I didn't string up the Christmas lights this year. Or hang up the wreath. Or get a Christmas tree. Or buy anyone a present.

Or, as it turns out, bake any cookies.

No one bought my Leftover Frosted Christmas Waffles as valid holiday baked goods. Everybody's a cynic.

I did go hiking with my dad at South Mountain, though. We made plans to head out about seven so I rolled up around noon thirty. I've been a little lax this (seventeen) month(s) about exercise (most recently evidenced this afternoon by the number of "Wish You Were Here" postcards my ass received from the couch) and my dad has justifiably been distracted from his workout regimen lately, so at least we were on the same fitness page. Page one. Or maybe the title page.

We had just started out and I, bleakly encouraged by the fact that my legs didn't fall off when they realized there was no pantry up ahead, began boldly making future hiking plans.

"There's a beautiful trail over in the Superstitions," I said. (I sort of said. I gasped.) "But it's like ten miles long. So before we try that we really need to make sure we..."

"Pack extra chocolate," my dad finished.

"Exactly," I said. (I wheezed. I choked.)

After that I just answered "Yeah" to everything he said because it was the only word I could squeeze out my nose. It was too hard to talk with my mouth stuffed with trail-waffles.