When I was little Christmas was magic. We'd bundle into the car for the ride to Grandma and Grandpa's, singing Christmas carols all the way and gabbing non-stop as the car went along on it's merry way.
This year my sweet sister, adorable manly nephew, and I climbed into our red Christmas mobile laden down with presents for the folks. Then, off to Grandma and Grandpa's we rode singing cheesy Christmas carols all the way.
Tradition is important to me. Christmas jammies opened with tired eyes on Christmas Eve. The all important morning feast, eaten after every last present has been opened and oohed and ahhed over. Goopy salad (the ultimate ambrosia) made with blood-sweat-and-marshmallows. Some things never change and I pray they never do.
I hope you all had the merriest of days.
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