I would be the worst secret agent in the world, and don't expect any help from me if you're interested in adultery, illegal conspiracy or embezzlement. I am just no good at deception. I have one of those faces that shows every emotion as I experience them. Even the most emotionally inept of my acquaintances has no trouble telling how I really feel about things.
Which is why this time of year kills me.
If I buy a really cool present for someone, I want to give it to them right away. In fact, it's completely typical for me to give Tom at least one present sometime in December, before Christmas Eve. And when it comes to the kids, I spend the last few days before Christmas in a torment, terrified that my secret hiding places will be revealed, or that a particularly astute almost-ten-year-old will ask a penetrating question pointing out a logical inconsistency about Santa Claus, or that I will inadvertently give away the existence of a special present through an ill-timed slip of the tongue.
This week will be the worst, as preparations reach fever pitch and as I pick up two relatively large presents that Santa has asked me to keep on site until the big day. (Thank God our garage is so messy that large bundles covered in painter's dropcloths are likely to go unnoticed amidst the chaos.)
In the meantime, there's been some sort of computer snafu chez GKIYH and I'm without a printer and without access to the main computer that we use (i.e. the one with all the files and storage on it, and the one that runs our wireless internet access). I'm hoping we can figure out a way to fix this soon -- but in the meantime, please excuse any temporary service outages as we fiddle with our fried motherboard (or do I mean "mutha-board"?.