The Christmas season blurred right by again this year. The holiday itself was as magical as ever when you live with a four-year old. In her own little Christmas gift to us, she let us sleep in until after 9 that morning. Once up, and before we were allowed to open any presents or check the stocking, the Critter had to check and see if Father Christmas had eaten his cookies, and fed the reindeer the giant carrot we left out for him. (Why didn't you just put the carrot back in the fridge, our neighbor asked. Because the Critter has the memory of Deep Blue, and would recognize it. As it was, she spotted the roll of "Santa's" wrapping paper in the trunk of my car, and said that it was "very nice of him to leave us the extra wrapping paper".)
Besides the beautiful hand-made quilt that my Bride made me, and a small forest's worth of wrapping paper left to clean up, the best thing Santa Claus brought to the 'Groove household is a refill on our supply of sleepless nights and wet-wipes. An extension on tuition bills. More stale milk and an endless mound of small jars filled with mashed food so unappetizing you wouldn't serve it to that mangy raccoon that roots through your garbage every week, leaving a trail of rotten leftovers and an embarrassing amount of diet coke cans strewn across your front lawn.
It took a couple of tries for the Critter to believe us, but she's got the concept now.
Come August or so, the Critter's going to have a little brother or sister. (She has already made her preference known. However, she hasn't decided which hair color she'd prefer, but will get back to us.)
One of us is pregnant. I'll let you guess which one.
Happy New Year, everyone.