Christmas Morning, Or, All the Creatures Were Stirring

I followed the children's thumping heels downstairs in the early morning and found them in darkness, taking turns with the new Fantastic Four Omnibus John had given them the night before.












Annika asked me to take a picture of her with her (obviously hers) cookie,







while Aidan turned professional and just ate the thing.

This is the first Christmas I can recall since Millie and Annie were babies that we've neither had company nor been company on Christmas Day, and we all agreed it was the Best Christmas Ever. Instead of my usual ugly transformation into Colonel Abigail who marches about, snapping for all the gifts to be put away and aprons and vacuums out to prepare for guests, I was a good self, and we lingered over gifts and food and played board games and napped and lazily enjoyed each other, suffusing the whole day with a slow outpouring of good.  We opened the last of the gifts right before bed, some of us still in our pajamas from the morning.

John was the greatest this year.  Several hours after the customary sugar cereal, eggnog, and cookies for breakfast, right when the lack of Real Food was dragging us all down, he sent his waitress around to gather orders for anything we wanted.  Homemade waffles, berry pancakes, hash browns, omelets to order, sausage, bacon, ham, juice-- you name it.  And we did.

The best part is that when I asked for the check, the waitress brought me my bill: "Omelet, meat lover's, glass of orange juice.  Total = 1 kiss for the cook."  He didn't even charge me for the best hash browns I've ever eaten.  THAT I can handle, folks.

Annika took my favorite picture of the day.  It shows John tallying up our score from the game he'd just taught me.  Ninety-something to twenty-two.  At least I'm was a happy loser, for once.







And that night a silver ring lassoed the moon.  A good end to a good day.