With our house you are never really sure how the simplest of events is going to end up. Take today for example, when we invited Rob's brother and his family over for dinner. Our nieces arrived first, with the intention of all the kids decorating Christmas cookies - yes I know it is a week past Christmas, but just go with it. The activity starts off innocently enough with colourful mittens and melting snowman, but with one stoke of an icing pen it comes right off the rails and before you know it I am looking at the cast of "The Walking Dead" iced on cookies. There were decapitated figures, complete with oozing brains, and another one with a bullet hole and what looked suspiciously like arterial blood. Another had it's head split with an axe, while Grady included a nice addition with a "Police Line - Do Not Cross" emblazoned around one of his creations. A little disturbing, I must admit. Even Lindsay questioned why a family get together to decorate Christmas cookies turned into a murder scene.
My husband was not to be left out of the festivities, he had a few surprises in store as well. We had all finished dinner and were sitting around talking and drinking when I noticed that Rob was nowhere to be seen. Some time later he returned through the front door. Apparently he was up on the roof because he had noticed a raccoon when he went out to call the cat. He was most perturbed and asked if I had heard a big crash. Admittedly I had heard something, but how the hell was I to know it was my husband falling off the roof.
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