Egg Noggin'

There are times when the children align with a parent over something rather significant. This year it is egg nog.

Me, well, I don't care for it. Wouldn't cross the street for it. Have had PLENTY of gross egg nog, and don't get that nostalgic feeling when I see it in the grocery store.

Matthew, on the other hand, LOVES it. He loves to drink it, guzzle it, dream about it. This year I got him a few egg noggy things. Like egg nog salt water taffy. He's gnawed on it here and there, and now, a new variety of drink that looks like a festive alcoholic put it together. Southern Comfort. Isn't that, like, a whiskey? They have "Traditional" in a black container, and "Vanilla Spice" in the pagan red. He goes more for the spice. As does Benjamin. "Can I have some milk nog?" Blech. You should see them, the two of them, just guzzling away with the most contented look on their faces. I don't understand it, I don't try to understand it, it's just one of those things that IS.

Abigail, it seems, is more like mom. Egg nog smegg nog. She doesn't seem to think anything about it. If the two of us were the only ones in the house, it would probably go bad (though how would WE know it?). It just doesn't hold the same appeal. I did catch her digging in the pantry and eating a handful of chocolate chips straight out of the bag though. WHEW! Now there's a girl who takes after her mom! What can I say, 'cept THATS my girl!