Another Christmas, another season of last-minute stress shopping (“I’m sure Dad will love this $50 nose trimmer with attached flashlight and nail clippers.”); last-minute gift wrapping (“Whaddaya mean we don’t have any wrapping paper?”); and last-minute visits (“Did I mention my dad’s expecting us in a couple of hours?”).
But as far as Christmases go, this year was pretty damn fine. Everyone liked their last-minute doodads, presents were wrapped with brown paper bags and “Happy Birthday” paper, and we showed up everywhere we needed to be.
What made it pretty damn fine was watching my little girl experience her first Christmas. Technically, this is her second Christmas. Her first Christmas we watched her sleep in an incubator in the NICU department at Kaiser Hospital. This year she got to tear up wrapping paper, crawl all over the place, and play in boxes.
Pretty damn fine.