Last night, in the deep, dark, Boy got up from his "nest" on the floor of our room (where he sleeps whether you put him there or not), crawled up the length of our bed, stated firmly, "Kiss!" and planted one on my lips. Then he curled up next to me and fell asleep.
We don't really do Santa, but have always told Girl that there was a person, supposedly, who originated the story of Santa Claus by giving to the poor, etc. Today we were watching a Christmas movie in which the main character encounters a bell-ringing Santa and gives a tug to his beard to see if he is authentic, or at least committed. The beard does not yield. Girl then off-handedly remarked, "This movie must be made before, like when Santa was still alive." Some magic must persist, but at such a morbid cost?
About Me
- bitter poet
- I have a 6-yr-old, a 3-year-old, have been married 9 years. A smallish, oldish house. Addicted to bright colour, organization, and a stubborn streak. Enjoy sunshine and wind, ethnic cuisine, and pleasant smells (which dooms the oldish house). Am studying yoga and want to learn sea kayaking and get a tattoo. Adore traveling. A midwesterner in the south. Educated. Christian, painter, writer, editor, housekeeper, foodie, cook, volunteer.
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