Jingle all the way

By: LOUISE ESOLA - Staff Writer | Friday, December 23, 2005 10:39 PM PST ∞

Merry Christmas, everybody!

And Happy Hanukkah! Or maybe, Happy Kwanzaa! Um, and to the Jehovah's Witnesses and others who don't celebrate anything, have a wonderful Saturday! And, well, wow, you sure look nice today!

Can I take my foot out of my mouth now?

Given that some people these days are finding such simple good wishes as offensive as being told to go take a dip in the ocean with bloody steaks strapped to their torso, I need to watch it with the happy holiday-du-jour.

Forgive me, but I can't help it. I'm in jovial spirits. I feel like singing "Jingle Bells" right here in office cubicleland. For I am about to embark on an adventure!

By the time you are reading this, my husband and I are either riding in a big yellow cab in 2-miles-per-hour traffic headed for San Diego's Lindbergh Field; waiting at the ticket line, which I was told on Friday morning trailed several miles east near Jamul; sitting on a plane browsing the Skymall catalogue; wondering why anyone would need a top-of-the-line CB radio next to their toilet; relaxing in some lounge in the Chicago airport waiting to board the plane to Philadelphia; or, if you are the type who leaves your paper out on your driveway for days, cruising the cold, snowy roads of the eastern seaboard.

The fabulously anonymous Donkey Kong and I are heading home for the holidays.

Home, as far as we know it is not-so-neatly divided into what seems like a hundred locations between the Keystone and Garden states.

We're visiting my mom, his mom, his dad, my dad, my brothers, his brother, his grandparents, my familia ---- another section of our visit divided like the kingdoms of Middle Age Europe ---- and a number of friends.

It sounds like the Twelve Days of Christmas, only we have five days to go from twelve drummers drumming to a partridge in a pear tree.

Realistically, we'll probably spend much of our time in a rental car so generic and no-frills it very well might be a motorized go-cart. Donkey Kong has planned this trip like a Rolling Stones continental tour, mapping out the times, days and destinations.

And, sort of like that feeling Mick Jagger gets when he puts on his showtime leather pants, we sure are excited.

It's our first Christmas as the mister and misses, the newest "Esola" branch on la familia tree. Yesiree, we have our own little twig up there, right off the Cannon branch, which is off the Enriquez and parallels the Juarez.

The first thing I suspect many will notice upon our arrival is that our nest is empty.

Yes, once we rescue our luggage from the crowded conveyer belts at Philadelphia International, our next challenge will be to avoid the inquiries regarding sexual reproduction ---- when are you having kids? --- which are bound to pound us like snowballs from all directions.

For those who are tuning into "Geez, Louise" for the first time: We're going to wait a while before we journey down the road of Diaper Genies and Blue's Clues.

Aside from the prodding and, of course, the near-freezing temperatures to which many of you know I am not a fan, there is much to look forward to.

We'll play with adorable nieces and nephews, whose wails are a sure sign that he or she ought to be returned to parents' laps. We'll gorge on lavish buffets featuring everything from turkey to rice and beans, and sugar cookies galore. We'll see folks we haven't seen in years.

I am so chipper that, frankly, I feel like singing.

We wish you a Merry Christmas,

We wish you a Happy Hanukkah,

We wish you a Festive Kwanza, and my ... you look nice!

Staff writer Louise Esola covers Oceanside schools. She can be reached at lesola@nctimes.com.

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