Mr. W’s kidlets left some time ago to attend Round 2 of Christmas with their mother’s side of the family. I guess it doesn’t hurt for them to get used to all the traveling for when they’re married and have the spouse’s family to add to the partyhopping. Having made myself a 4-shot Screaming Orgasm drink over ice (Bailey’s, Kahlua, vodka, Amaretto), I got sleepy and went to take a cat nap with Dodo in the bedroom. He’s so warm to snuggle my face into during the winter. I woke up and came downstairs to this:

There’s nothing like father-son bonding over fishing together…on the Wii.

As I type this they’re playing House of the Dead 3. Shooting zombies together just like in the good ol’ days right before Santa’s reindeer trot their way onto our roof as the aroma of gingerbread wafts through the air.
What’s Christmas without hearing in the background: “Reload. Re-re-reload.” “What’re you shootin’ at them heads for?” “Cuz that’s the weak point.” “They’re comin at us from all areas, too!” “Re-re-reload.” “Oh my God, the shotguns!” “He’s not feeling them, though.” “Ahh! He got me!”