The Ghost of Christmas Past

In answer to the question bleating out from the world at large: yes, we are alive. No, we have not dropped off the face of the earth. Yes, we are home. Yes, we are safe. Thanks for asking.

Now, I know that this is a bit after the fact, but here is our Christmas story in pictures. I think, in spite of the lateness of the whole thing, you'll still enjoy it.

Ben, trying on the stockings on Christmas Eve

Sam, clomping around in some stockings. We tried to stop them, but they both reminded us that, well, they were stockings. Wasn't this the whole point?

Mommy and Santa Sam

The boys were so into Santa this year. Intensely so. They wore these hats all over the place saying, "Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!" and absolutely loving life. They still love him. And they keep telling me that Santa is going to bring me presents. Looks like we missed the boat on the true meaning of Christmas. Better uck next year.

Benjamin Santa

Ben, helping me put cookies out for Santa. (p.s. I don't remember what those little glisteny tears were for, but they were very excited to be putting cookies out for Santa)

Shauna/Grandma had the idea to leave some carrots out for Rudolph and the other reindeer. It went very well. Until....

Rudolph? What? He's getting a little pudgy in the haunches anyway. He doesn't need no stinkin' carrots!

With the exception of letting the polar bear have a few nibbles the boys ate those carrots down to their stubs. I wish I had washed them first.

Santa Sam and carrot.

Oh Christmas Tree! Oh Christmas Tree!

Our Fam coming down on Christmas morning. Dark and early. The boys didn't want to wake up quite as early as Zach's sisters and were resisting. Then we mentioned Santa. Did I mention that we really didn't drive home the true meaning of Christmas home very well this year?

The boys playing with one of their gifts: a train set. Awesomeness ensued.

This is the chocolate rocking horse that Sam pinched from Emma's stocking. And then ate. And ate. And ate. Those boys were wired. Sorry again, Emma. But Zach says it's just payback.

I'd also like to profusely thank Scott and Shauna for feeding and housing us over Christmas. It was so much fun, the boys are asking to go back. They've named their stuffed dogs Harry and Teddy. And I am so, so sorry about everything they broke. Especially the stuff we don't know about yet. So sorry.

Merry
(late) Christmas!

P.S. Why do the British now say "Happy Christmas" and we say "Merry Christmas." They used to say it (see A Christmas Carol). And we don't put merry in front of any other holiday. Why? Can anyone explain this to me?