Santa Came, Santa Saw, Santa Conquered

We had a wonderful, snow-covered Christmas (more snow in Alexandria, Virginia, if you can believe, than my brother's family did up in Vermont. How is that possible?). But snow, as we all know, is not the main event, when you're under 10. Judging by the faint jungle of sleigh bells and patter of hooves heard around midnight, Santa arrived just before the stroke and littered our beautiful tree with gifts for Harry and Charlotte, who awoke around 7 a.m. to see whether the Jolly One deemed them naughty or nice.

"That's a big truck!" beamed Harry as he approached the red and yellow Mack dump truck. It's one of those moments where a kid really doesn't know what to play with first. Charlotte zeroed right in on the Gymbo doll poking from the top of her stocking and even called out his name (something I didn't realize she knew), but "Gymbo" was clearly audible and she carried that silly little clown around all morning while she played with her other toys. I think he even got a spin in her new stroller with baby Mimi.

We stopped just long enough for breakfast and then resumed the unwrapping. I gave Paul some new running clothes (and a secret stocking gift...if you guess it, I will confess). I was given a Kindle and what shall be known here forward as the "emotional root canal" of 2009: he had several large reels of Smith-family home movies converted, secretly, from Super-8 film to DVD. And I watched, sobbing for nearly two hours (it was the images of me dancing, as a toddler, with my long-ago passed father, the love of my life, that pretty much sent me over the edge). Somehow I managed to pull myself together enough to enjoy dinner that night with my godmother and her husband Al. (Note to husband...next year...jewelry).

On to the New Year.