I celebrate 5 Christmases every year: first with the man’s family, then with my mom, then dad, then two different aunts’ houses. My enthusiasm for this hectic schedule varies each year. On this quiet morning of Christmas Eve, sitting in my pj’s at my mother’s house with coffee and good company, I’m feeling the yuletide spirit. Finally.
But this, this warms my tiny, jaded heart, especially the chance spur-of-the-moment decision that spawned this sweet tradition. If only our military expenditures could always cover important diplomatic work like this.
As I write, Santa’s in Tasmania. From Tasmania to New England – I’d better get the cookies in the oven!