Every year, no matter how hung over Mike and I are, we trudge over to his parent's house to celebrate what is, to them, the most important holiday of the year. The first year I was supposed to go, I whined and stomped, but went anyway. I mean, come on! Who gets out of bed earlier than noon on New Year's Day. Every year since then it's gotten easier, with this year even being really enjoyable. How much can you really drink when you know your 18 month old doesn't really care how hung over you are, she's up at 6, desperate to see Big Bird anyway?
This was the first year we all donned our traditional Korean dress to celebrate. The kids had theirs, so why not make the adults get into really uncomfortable, non-breathable fabric, too? I actually got to pick mine out myself when Mike and I got married and I really like the colors a lot. I still sweat buckets in it though.
So here we are. . .
The gear is very colorful. Mike said he feels a bit like MC Hammer in the era of "Can't Touch This".
