Being the eccentric individual I can sometimes be, I am taking my son’s suggestion for a topic, eggnog. Rather strange, but why not?
Eggnog is sort of a funny topic. It is pretty much, for all practical purposes, a seasonal type thing, somehow related to the winter holidays and, specifically, to Christmas.
Certain things get certain connotations, although I am not sure that eggnog’s connotations for me are normal but, what the heck!
To me, I associate eggnog with nice clothing, an evening social event, a roaring fire in the fireplace. I also associate it with some sort of alcoholic enhancement, never to be drunk alone. True to myself, my actual associations with it have literally nothing to do with what I think of it!
I realized much to my dismay, that although I shoot for a yearly goal of some eggnog, the year 2010 fell strangely short! I never managed to get any at all. So, when Mikey and I were foraging in the less than welcoming Jewel grocery store at the corner of Lake Cook and Waukegan Roads, somehow our discussion landed on eggnog.
We bought some and decided that although I had missed the mark and 2010 was a bust for my eggnog consumption, that maybe I could just make up for it.
So, in the fridge sits the eggnog. Michael had had some, and for some reason, I was avoiding it. Was I really avoiding it or just not cognizant of its actual presence in the cooler? I am truly not sure. But yesterday, Mikey and I had a discussion, or at least I think it was yesterday. Is dementia setting in? Memory loss? My memory just isn’t what it used to be. Anyway, we discussed my lack of eggnog.
So, last night, being the eggnogger I am, I pulled it out in the latter part of the evening and had some. Did I add any alcohol? No. Did I add some nutmeg? No. Why do things the way everyone else does? Was I wearing my jacket and ascot? No. (Do I even own an ascot? I do own a beret, but I am a French teacher!). And, on top of everything, I really grossed MK out. After my eggnog consumption, I ate an orange.
Am I weird? Don’t answer that.
The more I think about it, the more boring I become.
Mike just got up, change in subject, thank you…
He just asked me if I had a piece of his chocolate cake for breakfast. He made it from scratch yesterday, that makes me wonder if…
Oh, wait, I am boring, not a prayer!