Christmas morning. I ate from the counter-top smorgasbord and scrambled together a last-minute gift presentation. We exchanged gifts, and it was nice and great. All of the gifts I received were practical, and everything fit inside a shoebox except for the Dremel and the shoes themselves. Stuff that fits my life or gets eaten. Ideal.
Oh, she sends me txt messages, and oh how I smile. It keeps getting better, and my Christmas gift was a painting. Not just any painting, but a painting of me, and oh how grand it is! I'm vain, and this version of me is pleasing indeed. And I'm riding a big tricycle. She got it just right.
I should have made the scarf 46 inches longer.