I think I'm going to heat up some apple cider. Not out of any desire to drink apple cider, but because I hope if I do so my house will smell a little more Christmas-y. We put up our tree yesterday, but since it's fake, there's no exciting smell or pine needles to vacuum. And it's not old enough to have built up that musty garage smell that meant Christmas when I was growing up.
Of course, we've already had Christmas Miracles galore this year. We've had Santa come in pieces as many gifts from loving friends, prayers and kindness, and enough fat on my belly to jiggle like a bowl full of jelly. Also, somehow our gas fireplace is non-functional. So what more could we ask for?
I mean, besides everyone's Christmas wish this year: money! Mostly in the form of jobs for our family members. And maybe in the form of a car that will fit our growing clan comfortably. I am shocked at how fast a sedan becomes way too small.
So here's the deal Old Man. If you bring us that stuff, I will keep your belly for another year. Sound good?
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