I know that I should be wrapping presents right now, but I think blogging is a legitimate way to avoid doing the inevitable don’t you think?
Before I with you a very Merry Christmas there are a couple of Henry moments that are just begging to be shared. (And if I don’t mention them now I’m sure to forget them in the next few days of Christmas chaos.)
This morning while I was drinking my coffee and reading the newspaper Henry was watching a Christmas show (hey – vacation rules still apply on Christmas Eve as far as I’m concerned.) Anyhow, the show was talking about wishes. And of course they asked their fellow viewers “What is your Christmas wish?” Then there was the long pause that all TV shows for preschoolers have (I think the theory is that the longer the pause = more educational show.)
Henry responded to the question without need for a lengthy pause.
“My Christmas wish is for a pool table!”
And as I sit here typing he is at the table next to me writing (drawing) a last-minute letter to Santa confirming his request for a pool table. “With a big pool stick, just like this Santa!” I have the letter to prove it, and it is a pretty good drawing of a pool stick.
Oh dear. Let’s hope Henry likes air hockey.
We have a silver bell with the year that Alex and I were married engraved on the front. Somewhere along the way it was deemed a Christmas decoration and is brought out only once a year with the other decorations. This year it has quickly become Henry’s favorite “toy.” This morning is no exception. All morning the ding-a-ling, ding-a-ling, ding-a-ling sound has been ringing through our house. When I finally had had my ding-a-ling fill I asked Henry politely to stop. Right now.
His response? “Mom, I can’t stop ringing the bell. People are donating.”
Ding-a-ling, ding-a-ling, ding-a-ling.
This one actually took place a few weeks (months?) ago at the grocery store, but I was just reminded of it at a Christmas party last night.
I had both boys with me at the grocery store which I normally try to avoid. I was wearing Charlie in the front pack and Henry was running loose. He wouldn’t sit still in the cart and besides those darn cart “seat-belts” are always broken. We were only in the produce section when Henry discovered that the plastic bags were right at his level. So he did what any three year old would – he grabbed the end and took off running past the lettuce. Our cart was abandoned as I made a mad dash after him before he took out anyone in his plastic bag wake. After a stern talking too, we were back in business and headed down another aisle. And that wasn’t even the point of this story.
While I was busy debating which peanut butter to buy Henry struck up a conversation with a beautiful older woman.
“Hi, my name is Henry. Are you a housewife?”
On that note, I really should finish my wrapping. Get the kids dressed (myself too.) And reheat my coffee for the third time this morning. But not without wishing a very Merry Christmas to each of you from our family. And because they have already said it much better than I could, here’s my gift to you. A gift meant just for you if you have found yourself searching for the true meaning of Christmas this season. Or feel like you are prepared to celebrate Christmas but still feel like something is missing. Or to renew your faith. I want to share two stories. Written by two women who have taken the leap of faith and believe. Enjoy!
May you know the peace, hope, joy, and love found in Jesus Christ.
Lots of love,