In a sad coincidence, for Christmas this year, Mrs. P and I decided not to buy the children too many things that would keep them indoors. No video games. No movies. Instead, the majority of their stash was made up of outside toys like roller blades, a volleyball set, a basketball, a baseball glove and a scooter (And who on earth DIDN'T get a scooter this year, raise your hand?). One small problem with all these outdoor toys: The wind chill for most of what remained of our vacation was just a shade lower than the combined IQs of the people on 'Survivor.'

We did get outside once: We all managed to enjoy the movie "Remember the Titans" as a family, and when it was over we returned home and played Pictionary Junior until our pencils were short and dull. We became so familiar with each other's drawing habits that once, The Boy made one swipe with his pencil and someone yelled out "MOUSTACHE!" So adept had we all become at this contest that each time someone would begin to draw, we could literally count the grains of sand that had passed through the timer by the time the drawing had been solved.

Our two daughters received stereos for Christmas. Another mistake. After a week of listening to their music, my age was painfully obvious. Britney Spears? What's up with her? I think she's actually an alien from another planet. Just look at her eyes -- she's either an android or one of those "Survivor" people.

When WE were teenagers, we had good music. And if you'll hold on, I'll think of what it was.

The first day I returned to work was the happiest day of the year for me. Of course, since it was only January 2, I'm hoping for additional joy before the year is out.

I turned on my computer and immediately fired off an email to a friend who works for the school system, explaining to him the almost unbearable amount of happiness I had experienced during my 11-day sojourn to nowhere. I told him we all felt stranded. Hopeless. Marooned in our respective bedrooms hoping that a passing ship would somehow spot us in our dire straits (AHA! I told you we had good music when we were teenagers).

"The start of school couldn't have come any sooner," I wrote to him on that second day of January. "Well, actually, it would've been nice if it had come about a week ago. Maybe you can work on that next year."

A couple of hours later, he wrote a return email and told me that next year's Christmas break will keep the kiddos at home until January 7 -- four more days than this year. Our tax dollars at work!

Next year maybe the weather will return to normalcy for Texas -- 50, partly cloudy, acceptable. If not, I'm asking Santa for snow chains for the car. We're going someplace. ANYPLACE!

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