Santa Hat Sunday

Greetings to all!  It's me, Maggie.  We really did try to avoid some of this, but Mom was armed with cookies and can be as stubborn as a Siberian Hu --- uh, I mean ... well, let me just show you instead.

It went something like this:

"For the last time, Cam.  We're wearing the glasses so nobody recognizes us."
"Ohhh, right.  Good plan, Maggie."
"Girls, come on!  Everyone knows it's you!  Lose the glasses!"

She then said something about "no cookies until you show yourselves" or something like that, so we begrudgingly handed over the glasses.

"Fine.  Happy now, Mom?"
"I thought it was a good plan, Maggie.  But Mom has COOKIES."
"Better.  Let me back up a bit."

Great. Back away.

"Keep backing up.  A little further, Mom.  
-whispering- A couple more steps, Cam, and I'll show everyone just what I think of these hats!"
"Maggie!  Shh!  She has those crunchy Zuke's!"
"Maggie?  Are you whispering to Cam?  Are you saying you want to wear the hats on your heads?!?"

She knew full-well that wasn't what I was saying!  But did she do what she wanted to anyway?  Did I mention how stubborn she can be?!?

"This is only because Santa's watching!  ... and because you have cookies."
"Yeah.  The good kind of cookies."
"Thanks, girls!  That wasn't so bad, was it?!?"

Do you see what we have to put up with around here?  We're bound to be on the "Nice List" -- don't you think?

It's so very, very hard to be good sometimes.  Now ... where did she put my glasses?!?

Yours sincerely,

Margaret Thatcher