Well, my loyal and wonderful readers, I’m taking a break for two weeks to spend time with my delicious family. They are pouring in from all parts by trains, planes, and automobiles. The tree is up, the stockings have been hung with care, and I have enough food to feed an army.
Besides being the chief cook and chubby-cheek kisser of all peeps from three – eighty-three, I am on guard Christmas Eve as the Santa lookout. The Sucker never, ever showed up to my house in The Cleve when I was a child, sending a strong signal that I was perennially on his “naughty” list. (I’m inclined to believe the dude doesn’t exist.) I have several years of “memory photos” of the rats eating Santa’s cookies when I hid in a closet with the door cracked to catch him in the act of consuming his midnight snack.
Google Image/originally uploaded by pyza
So now that I’m an adult who realizes one has to have a family to “eat the Santa cookies” in order to keep up the ruse, I’ll be standing guard Christmas Eve just in case while WW puts together a thousand piece train set for our grandson. To help keep myself awake I’ll think about how, if I were a god who wanted to express his divine love to a gnarly bunch of ragamuffins who were constantly acting the fool against each other and the Earth, what better method could that god have used than to sneak in under cover as a baby and hang out in our midst for a few years to show us how to treat each other.
To some it is hard to believe, but I actually think it’s pretty clever—hidden in plain sight. And so with all the hope, love, peace and joy that Christmas offers from God incognito in a manger, Merry Christmas to you and yours from me and mine.
See you on January 5th!
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