At least the title reflects how I feel about the whole blogging experience. I have become too lazy to upload pictures and too tired to figure out something creative to write and so here I find myself days between posts and the sad thing it is going to stay that way for a while. I do however want to answer a question that I have had a lot of people asked me. The Santa that came to my house for Christmas was actually my daddy.
When I was young my mom made him that beautiful suit and each Christmas I had the opportunity to be his elf while we visited friends and sometimes people who just needed to be cheered up. My name was Killarny. My dad is very proud of his Irish heritage and he wanted me to reflect that. The standard line he'd use when he would introduce me to people was, "and this is Killarny, we call her that because when she's bad we "kill" "arny". Kind of a morbid joke for Santa but then, you'd have to know my father. He sang me very interesting songs growing up and when I find myself singing them once in a while and my children will laugh and say, "that explains a lot about you mom."
So, the truly best part about my Christmas was that my daddy took the time to come to my home and play Santa to my children and for a brief moment when I sat on his lap I could remember when my mom made that suit and how wonderful our Christmas' were.
