When four of Santa's elves got sick, the trainee elves did not produce toys as fast as the regular ones, and Santa began to feel the Pre-Christmas pressure.
Then Mrs. Claus told Santa her Mother was coming to visit, which stressed Santa even more.
When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two others had jumped the fence and were out, Heaven knows where.
Then when he began to load the sleigh, one of the floorboards cracked, the toy bag fell to the ground and all the toys were scattered.
Frustrated, Santa went in the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum. When he went to the cupboard, he discovered the elves had drunk all the cider and hidden the liquor.. In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cider jug, and it broke into hundreds of little glass pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found the mice had eaten all the straw off the end of the broom.
Just then the doorbell rang, and an irritated Santa marched to the door, yanked it open, and there stood a little angel with a great big Christmas tree.
The angel said very cheerfully, 'Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn't this a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to stick it?'
And so began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.
Not a lot of people know this.
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So I found a quote I love. It's been floating around Facebook and I have it as my status at the moment. This is me to a T, so please take a moment and read it. Share it with others if you think it fits
I may not be the most beautiful, or the sexiest, nor do I have the perfect body. I might not be everyone's first choice, but I'm a great choice. I don't pretend to be someone I'm not, because I'm good at being me. I might not be proud of some of the things I've done in the past, ...yet, I am proud of who I am today. Take me as I am...... or watch me as I walk away!
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So I saw this posted on Misfits and it reminded me of a email I received a while ago. I love it and want to share it with you.
Just A Mom
A woman, renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk's office, was
asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation.
She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.
"What I mean is, " explained the recorder, "do you have a job or are you
just a ....?"
"Of course I have a job," snapped the woman. "I'm a Mom."
"We don't list 'Mom' as an occupation, Housewife' covers it,” Said the recorder emphatically.
I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall.
The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high sounding title like, "Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar."
"What is your occupation?" she probed.
What made me say it? I do not know… the words simply popped out.
"I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations."
The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair and looked up as though she had not heard right.
I repeated the title slowly emphasizing the most significant words. Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written, in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.
"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what you do in your field?"
Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, "I have a continuing program of research, (what mother doesn't) in the laboratory and in the field,(normally I would have said indoors and out).
I'm working for my Masters, (first the Lord and then the whole family) and already have four credits (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities, (any mother care to disagree?) and I often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it). But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are more about the satisfaction rather than just money."
There was an increasing note of respect in the Clerk's' voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.
As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model, (a 6 month old baby) in the child development program, testing out a new vocal pattern.
I felt I had scored a beat on bureaucracy! And I had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just another Mom."
Motherhood! What a glorious career! Especially when there's a title on the door.
Does this make Grandmothers "Senior Research Associates in the field of Child Development and Human Relations"
And Great-grandmothers "Executive Senior Research Associates"?
I think so!!!
I also think it makes Aunts "Associate Research Assistants."
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