Early morning with Mrs. Claus. I messaged my friends saying that I wasn't missing my father as much this Christmas, as I have become he. Fully. Down to wearing a holiday-decorated fedora, his long black cashmere topcoat, and sitting in the driveway, with the car running, honking for my mother, an hour late.
May the circle be unbroken.
Christmas morning really is for the young ones. I got completely schooled in dragons by a very authoritative six-year-old at breakfast. When I tried to debate the relative size of newly hatched baby-dragons, he adopted an exasperated tone and told me in no uncertain tones, "Now look Uncle Wilson, I know dragons…"
However, he was an overly-excited whirling dervish to see that I brought him, among others gifts, a present as big as he is.
I remember how exciting it was when the size of the present was a (ahem) big deal. As we age, the better things come in smaller packages I suppose. I have a great photo of Bradley as a child hanging over a chair and looking expectantly at a large box that had to be wrapped in black plastic leaf bags and tied with tinsel—I called the photo "Anticipation."
Also very Christmas-morning-child-like: robot presents! Including a robot raptor. Note the Franna petting it fondly.
And pretty presents. And silly puppies. And exhausted dogs.
And as is my tradition, the Uncle series of t-shirts for all the kids. This one is a Hamlet reference:
To Bee or not to bee. Get it? Hahahahahaha. I love that he has no concept of the reference but it's his new favorite shirt.
After an exhausting day, and a little nap, Franna and I joined Jay's family for their Christmas Day Christmas Dinner.
The Christmas night sunset was quiet and contemplative. That made me miss Dad quite a bit. He would have paused before getting in the car and watched with me.
Dinner and cheer with Jay, the new Hardcastle patriarch, and his family was warm and lively. With cousin Price, and newest animal addition who wandered in and was adopted: Jerry Snakedusky.
Merry Christmas!
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