On Christmas morning, Gavin was excited by the stockings when I turned on the tree. He had to pull up the feet on his slightly too-big Christmas footie pajamas so he could get to them. We tore open our gifts, we made a huge mess, we put on fancy aprons and made eggs Benedict, we piled on the couch and cheered for Gavin while he attacked virtual bad guys with his electronic light saber. The man brought over his cat to terrorize Po the Porkchop. Neither of the cats appreciated the stinky dehydrated shrimp treats Santa brought them. In the evening we ate roast beef, lamb, Yorkshire pudding, artichokes, carrots and potatoes, baked apples and rhubarb pie. We toasted with wine and sparkling blueberry juice, clinking each time Gavin cried, "To Santa! To Christmas! Cheers!"
Good holiday. Made it through another one.
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