Santa's Coming Tonight, Tonight!

So sings Sponge Bob, and my children. They are locked in the dining room (the warmest room in the house, even WITH a window open), wrapping my Christmas present. I know it is a DVD of Mama Mia! because I asked for that, and The Spouse tried to get me to wrap it earlier this week. Ha! Yeah. Right. You gotta at least wrap what you givin'.

Tonight, we are going to dinner with some French friends. We are the Perfect Storm of dining partners: three families, six kids. Everyone gets on famously, although one husband always takes off his shoes and socks immediately upon entering the host home. Which is sort of weird. But he is funny and charming, so we forgive him. Last time I hosted a dinner, he and the other French husband corrected our (American) pronunciation of such things as "Oasis," "The Beatles," and "Elvis Presley." Seems we are doing it all wrong.

Anyhow, there is going to be foie gras and jumbo shrimp. I am contributing champagne, and a great green salad, and the Nigella caramel croissant bread pudding. Oh, and tons of cookies and the chocolate peanut butter cups the girls made.

The Hostess sent her husband over on his way home from work this afternoon (December 25 is NOT a holiday in Russia) so he could collect the heavier items. I stood outside our building with a carton of champagne and a tray of cookies. I got a lot of looks from people who, I think, think I was selling something. One little old lady came by and stood nose-to-nose with me.

"What is all this?" she asked.

I thrashed about for some Russian vocabulary and finally confessed, "I speak Russian not very well."

"Ah," but she was still curious.

"Party?" I tried. "Fiesta?"

That seemed to work for her, and she ambled on her way.

Then I spotted a very draggy-ass Ded Moroz coming up the street. Some poor young guy, wearing his Russian Father Frost giddy-up and dragging his bag of presents, his heart JUST. NOT. INTO. IT. Why? Why? Why don't I carry a camera with me always?

I relayed these stories over lunch.

"Mama, you are a magnet for the weird," said Baboo.

Yeah. That may be true. But it all makes for good blog material.

Merry Christmas y'all.