What a nice Christmas.
So what if the snow barely held onto the ground long enough for presents to be unwrapped? So what if, in defiance of the natural order of things, we actually had to wake my son up, instead of vice versa? (Mom couldn’t wait any longer and dogpiled him at 8 a.m.) So what if the winter wonderland has given way to 65 degree afternoons and 25 degree nights? (Superb flu weather)
Indeed. So what?
It was our first Christmas at home, our first Christmas composed of just us, our cat and the Power Pug Princess (who also had tiny stockings full of Pounce and a rawhide bone, respectively. Santa is an equal opportunity giver). Surprisingly peaceful and fulfilling, as Lisa and I just sat there, watching Max figure out which toy to play with next.
I’d had a good year – finally – good enough to actually get Max the things he wanted and Lisa the things she didn’t know she wanted. I’ve had quite a bit to be thankful for this year, and if I wasn’t properly thankful for them last month, at Thanksgiving, well, I’m a born procrastinator.
Now it’s time to haul all these boxes and trash bags full of balled-up wrapping paper to the curb; time to get back to work. Time to fix another turkey sandwich as I knuckle back down at the computer. I hope you had a good one. I did, and I ain’t apologizin’.
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drfreex.com 
And a merry Christmas to you, Doctor. It’s a gift-giving secret that only parents know: Watching the kids open their presents is where it’s at. (Watching the wife open hers is fun, too.)