It's not beginning to look a lot like Christmas

This entire blog could be about Rascal. I recently realized that the majority of the posts are inspired by his antics.

Well, he's the middle child - with all the stereotypes that the moniker implies.

About six months ago, I lost all my neighborhood credibility during a certain embarrassing episode that I must, in truth, take personal blame for. Now, visitors announce themselves with a phone call first (one from his cell phone while in my driveway - !!!). The mail guy is the exception - he winks and flirts outrageously. I thought I knew what to expect.

Yesterday, the DHL lady dropped off the last of the Christmas packages sent from the grandparents. Rascal saw a big truck coming down the drive and was terribly excited. He immediately devised the appropriate response, which was to strip down to his undies, stand on the sofa frame against the front window, and dance crazily while beating on the window and singing the alphabet.

Good thing the delivery lady has a sense of humor! She peeked past the door into the living room where the show continued in front of the Christmas tree (now decorated with a Barrel Of Monkeys - grr, where is my camera?).

"I think I've delivered here before," she commented.

I certainly don't remember her. But then, I think we are the ones who make the biggest impressions.