Dropping off Daughter at her preschool the other morning she began to tell her teacher about all the presents under our tree. She then explained that there were 3 presents for her, 3 for Stepson, and 2 for daddy. Her teacher, apparently oblivious to men’s penchant to shop at the last minute, asked where mommy’s gifts were. Daughter looked at her with a remorseful look and, in her most grave voice, said:
“They’re gone. She doesn’t get any 'cause Santa’s mad at her. She not be good.”
I guess I’d better get to it and get at least one thing under the tree.