Who was that gal in my bathroom?

Nana and Paw-Paw...We are the tree trunk and these grandkids are our branches. Time does fly.

This photo was taken in 2001. Grandson, Austin, the little boy on top step was not present this year, so he is not pictured below. The boy on top step this year is Nicole's brother, and that is Nicole bottom center. We are so very proud of each and every one of these young people we call OURS. The picture below from this year is evidence that we produce cute offspring.

Christmas day our house overflowed with cookie eaters, game players, gift openers, sibling teasers, toy lovers, and adult kids acting young. I love it when all of us are under our roof. The noise is sometimes deafening, and the seating is limited, so invariably long-legged young adults sprawl on the floor. We step over one another, laugh raucously, over eat, and hug good-bye with a new appreciation for each other.

Bill and I vacuum, do a quick clean up, and settle in to reminisce about another year over and another almost begun. I glimpse a game piece on the floor, a handprint on the door, ALL of my Snapple peach tea bottles in the recycle bin. These THINGS don't matter. It is family that does.

I lie on the couch and he stretches out in his recliner, the room lit by the Christmas tree, and I give thanks for all of our babies. Although our only real baby is Liam at 18 months (not pictured because he was off scouting out chocolate chip cookies) and the next oldest is Nicole at age 8. Everyone else has topped us in height and cuteness and smartness. Each one makes us proud.

I picked up a black ponytail holder off the floor. I hung it up high on a knob in the bathroom, figuring one of the girls would call and ask if we found it.

A week has gone by and it was still hanging up high, because Kitty No-No likes to eat those stretch bands. Today, before my shower I reached for my pink shower cap. Before donning it, I spied the pony tail holder and pulled all my hair back into it and slipped on the cap. Nice, none of my escaping tendrils would get wet. I didn't have to shove fallen clumps back under as usual. I proceeded to take a long, leisurely shower and forgot about the pony tail holder.

When I got out of the tub and dried off, I yanked off the pink plastic shower cap. Instead of my shoulder length hair cascading as usual, I screamed at the sight of Ruth Buzzy in my mirror. My hair wasn't drawn severely back in a hair net, but in that dang ponytail holder! Geeze, once I got my heart rate back to normal, I towel dried, moisturized and tossed that stretchy band into the trash can.  

In case you are too young to know who actress Ruth Buzzy is, here's a photo of her from a 60s show called Laugh In.
 

Shocking I tell you; it was just shocking.