Santa breakfast weekend
Early morning tree admiring at my parents’ house. For the past two years we have gone to my parents’ country club for the Santa breakfast. Both times P has cried his little eyes out while clawing my body with a death grip like no animal I’ve ever seen. But this year he went in with a new understanding…Santa is in charge of presents! And that – to quote Martha – is a good thing. Worth braving the beard for, you might say. In truth, he has been telling me what he’s going to do/say/ask Santa for weeeeeeeeks…. Read more >