Christmas day started on an ominous note, with a beast of a fever. But my illness was cured by the greatest panacea known to modern medicine: sweet-ass presents. I was good this year, and Santa was good to me:

I can now ring up all of your Dora-related purchases.

My barn door is open! Nyuk nyuk nyuk...

The piece de resistence-- my own fake kitchen. I heard Santa yelling for a couple of hours last night about which pieces fit into which... I guess he must have had his reindeer help assemble it in my living room.

Of course, it wasn't all about the getting. I gave my mom this killer plate that I helped design:

Check it out! Triangles are my favorite shape.

Here's the whole motley Christmas crew. We did it up pretty well for a bunch of (mostly) lapsed Jews:


I'm just about recovered from my ailment, which kept me lounging around the house in the same pair of pajamas (the ones that are soft like Margie) for three days. I'm almost at 100%, although a few more presents might put me over the top.