Merry Christmas, Emporium!

It's a couple of days after Christmas, approaching eleven o'clock at night, and my kids are in the other room "Just Dance"-ing with no sign of stopping any time soon.

I am sitting in bed eating swedish fish and begging David to come join me.  We've had full day of games and food and family with more on tap for tomorrow.

Yesterday we finished one of the puzzles and played three rounds of our new game.

We have plans to find snow later in the week.  Which will certainly require a road trip of some length.

I wish it was Christmas vacation forever.

There is no where to go except to get fresh supplies.  I sent David out today...we needed more olives and sour cream for our nearly constant buffet service.  (That was a close one.) 

This afternoon I received cards from seven more of you.  My kitchen walls are covered with your smiling, holiday wishes.  I wish I could leave them up forever.  They are quite possibly my favorite part of the entire celebration. 

My other favorite parts:

Eggnog in the refrigerator.  Sole property of David.  None of the rest of us will touch the stuff.

Soda in the outside refrigerator.  Only time of the year it is ever in our house.  It's a party, people.

A sink full of my serving platters.  Most of the year they sit in the top cupboard behind the benadryl and itch cream and ibuprofen.  This week they are the star of the show.

The hymns.  And the movies.  I wait all year for both of them.

Spontaneous sleepovers in the living room.  The kids blow up the camping mattress and whisper and read and gaze at the Christmas tree lights until their eyelids call it quits.

A gameboard open and active nearly every hour of the day on my round kitchen table.  Exactly why we bought it round, by the way.

Late at night in bed with David.  In the middle of hibernation, when the house is quiet, every dream we've ever had seems possible, and reality seems very, very far away. 

It truly is a wonderful life.