It’s the same ritual every night. My internal clock alarms me it’s time for bed- but straight to bed is not the route I want.
Not yet.
I take a detour to the boys’ room and flip on the hall light. I’m not worried about waking them up because once they are asleep nothing disrupts their wonderland. Really, I turn the light on because there’s no use blowing kisses into a dark room, my aim may be off and the kiss would be wasted. Continue reading
We went Christmas tree hunting. Well, technically, my husband did the hunting and we just traipsed behind him…WAY behind him. I expected less snow and mud, not that there was that much but I didn’t bring my boots. My steps were more careful.
He found a tree pretty quick. I liked it except for the big hole in the back.
But, it was pretty. And like a magnet he found another tree. He’s good at this. Immediately I decided, “Let’s do the other tree. It’ll work.”
I was done.
“But, it’s only been 20 minutes,” he said. Exactly my point. The perfect Christmas tree in 20 minutes. How much more perfect than that can we get?
But I see how roles were reversed. If it was a shopping trip I would be telling him the same thing (and I have)… but it’s only been 20 minutes!
He continued shopping. I puppy guarded the tree like my husband puppy guards a clothing rack while I shop. You know the motive of looking busy when you’re just plain bored. Yep, I just used the word “bored” with a family tradition. My to-do list was stealing my fun.