Kroger continues to to produce dismay and confusion in Charlottesville.

Why bother re-opening the store at Barracks, I wonder?

A  meme, borrowed from Blackbird.

Hot chocolate or eggnog?
Hot chocolate — although we watched Alton Brown make eggnog and the boy really wants to try to make it — nonalcoholic for him, of course. What I really like, though is Alpenglow wine, served hot.

Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?
No wrapping from Santa. Not in this house.

Colored lights on your tree/house or white?
To be determined. We like to mix it up.

Do you hang mistletoe?
I haven’t but I may this year.

When do you put up decorations?
Usually at the last possible moment. We’re going to start today, though.

What does your favorite christmas meal include?
Rolls! and pie.

Favorite christmas memory from childhood?
The year my sister got her piano, which was actually a picture of a piano wrapped inside a shirt box (actual piano to be delivered later). We all cried when she did.

How and when did you learn the truth about Santa?
It was springtime, I know. I think I was about 10. My mom ‘fessed up.

Do you open a gift on christmas eve?
My husband and I reserve our gifts for each other to open when we’re alone late Christmas Eve.

How do you decorate your christmas tree?
With ornaments collected over the ages, garland or strings of silvery beads and lights.

Snow! Love it or leave it?
Love it, particularly when there’s giant flakes, it packs well and makes a rockin’ snowman.

Can you ice skate?
I used to be able to but I’m afraid those days are long gone.

Do you remember your favorite gift?
That’s awfully hard to choose.

What’s the most important thing about christmas for you?
Making sure my kids have a good time and remember why it is we’re celebrating.

What is your favorite christmas tradition?
Giving presents and baking.

What tops your tree?
A star the girl made at school.

What is your favorite christmas song?
It’s an entire soundtrack — from A Charlie Brown Christmas.

Consider yourself gift tagged.

The boys caught me reading Bobbi Brown’s Beauty Evolution, specifically the chapter entitled “Your Twenties.”

“Your twenties are ancient history,” said my loving husband.

“Hey, I’m taking ancient history,” said the boy, “I’ll let you know when I run across your name.”

The girl was seriously hacked off at the boy. She’d given the dog a bath at my request (Clover smelled like a foot, or more accurately an ear, as I think he has an ear infection. Paging Drs. Chhotu and McCaul!) and neglected to clean up the bathroom afterward. So, her brother, rightly so, demanded that she march up there and take care of it. She slammed a door and stomped up to the bathroom, cleaned it up and then took her shower.

The next morning, the boy got out of the shower to a misty message written on the mirror: “I hate you, Boy.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed when he told me. “Thanks, Mom. Thanks,” he said. Later, I made his sister apologize. She said she had no idea he’d see what she’d written the night before. “I was just so MAD.”