Christmas; Episode 1 (The road most traveled)

January 1, 2008

Sariah’s first Christmas was spent primarily on the road. I’ll try to not to let this get too boring:

Christmas Eve:

Morning: I went to play racquetball with a couple friends while Cristina and Sariah left for San Diego (where we would spend the rest of our trip). I won all three games that we played with a score of 21-0. That’s what I remember the score to be and frankly, there is no evidence to the contrary (besides the circumstantial evidence that I am chubby and slow and therefore incapable of winning a game via shutout). Cristina was tending to her mom who had just been released from the hospital the day before (she had her Hyster, ectomied.

Noon: Cristina continues tending to her mother while I make the trek to San Diego and meet up with my Dad. He and I drive to the bicycle store and pick up Cristina’s “big gift”, a Diamondback 21 speed roadbike (having lost our sanity long enough to run a marathon and a couple half-marathons, we have now have an equally insane goal of riding a “Century” — 100 mile — bike ride. The stupidity never ceases to amaze you. I know).

3:00: I finally meet up with my wife and daughter and we head to my Grandmother’s home to celebrate a traditional Christmas Eve gathering. It was relatively uneventful, excepting the Chargers trampling all over the Denver Broncos. Also, my grandmother gave each of us a framed photo of my Grandfather who passed away December of last year. It was a photo of him when he was young (late twenties, maybe). I think Sariah recognizes him. The timing was such that they probably would have crossed paths in the heavens, her heading off to earth and him returning home from it.

7:00 pm: We go to the house of the old bishop of our old ward. His family hosts a Chili open house every year on Christmas Eve and about 75% of the ward shows up (in shifts, of course… he has a decent size home, but it ain’t that big!) I like to brag about the fact that this ex-bishop and good friend is actually none other than “Consumer Bob” from a San Diego news station. Ken Kramer also was there, another news reporter. Yeah, I rub elbows with a lot of celebrities.  I’m kind of a big deal.

Sariah was a big hit and got a lot of the standard compliments about how she was so pretty and cute and so forth. She responded to these accolades by drooling excessively (I think this is her outward manifestation of disdain for the adoring masses).

9:00 pm: Cristina goes back to her mothers and I go to my parents house under the  auspices of needing to pick up the clothes I brought from home that morning. I borrow my dad’s car (still containing the bike and drive to Cristina’s mom’s where we settle in for a long winter’s nap.

12:00 pm: Sariah wakes up coughing and after putting her back to sleep Cristina and I talk for awhile. After hearing some voices outside, I fake that I am worried that I didn’t lock my car and go outside. I grab the bike from ny dad’s car and bring it back to the house (actually, it’s a condo). After realizing that it is larger and louder than I thought, I cancel my plan to bring it in the front door, since we were sleeping in the front room.  I put the bike around the side of the condo on the patio and go back inside and to bed. I have no backup plan.

4:00 am: Cristina wakes up to start the dough rising for traditional Christmas cinnamon rolls. I’m still scrambling for a window of opportunity.

4:30 am: Cristina’s mom begins to stir. She’s in a bit of pain and needs help getting her pills and getting rearranged in bed and whatever else. Cristina goes to the bedroom and I attempt to sneak the bike in from the patio. This is a complete disaster. The blinds clattered while I opened them with deafening “clackety-click-clack” and the sliding glass door was about 3 gallons of WD-40 shy of silence. I stumbled and kicked around items on the dark patio like a desperate pre-pubescent schoolboy trying out for the junior varsity soccer team and finally wheeled the bike inside. Amazingly Cristina was oblivious to my clumsy cacophany and when she finally came back in to go to sleep, the light was off and I was back under my blanket.

5:30 am: Cristina gets up again to work on the cinnamon rolls some more and notices the bike. Bewilderment ensues.

Christmas Morning:  To be continued cause this is getting too long!




Sariah looks like she’s being held hostage in this one.



  1. Geez Christina, it looks like you kidnapped Sariah! Nice picture though.

  2. I know, I totally love this picture. What you can’t really tell because there is no motion is that she is really doing “jazz hands”. I think she is going grow up to be a star.

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