Christmas and Asparagus’ Many Marvels

Welp, I survived Christmas in Colorado. Hadley has been absolutely in her element with all the attention, food and gifts. We had a grand time following Santa’s route on NORAD’s Santa Tracker, though I feel a bit ripped off we never had such perks when I was a kid.
In addition, Christmas brought many new insights this year:

*Santa must get really hungry traveling all the way from the North Pole. At least that’s what Jamie said when I queried why my stocking had a half-eaten bag of Hershey’s Dulce De leche kisses.

*Jamie must love me way more than I love him. Or he may just have more time at his disposal.

*While all his Christmas presents to me were beautifully wrapped and had a thoughtful note i.e. “To my loving and beautiful wife. Thank you for a wonderful year. Your devoted Husband.” Juxtapose that against my presents to him that were thrown in a gift bag (WHAT would we do without them?) and my chicken-scrawled “To J, Heart A” (if that) as Hurricane Hadley tore up everything around her.

*Santa does exist. That is the only way I can possibly explain the beautiful new diaper bag that mysteriously showed up under the tree. Jamie professes foul play.

*One-year-olds don’t care what they get for Christmas. We spent hours setting up a fun play area for Haddie in the basement with a playhouse, basketball hoop, table, kitchen, play fort, countless toys and an Elmo rug. When we unveiled it to her, she ran in the other direction towards a ratty old ball.

*Consuming asparagus augments the smell of your urine. Or at least that’s what my food-connoisseur sister-in-law, Tammy, professed during our Christmas feast. I forfeited the experiment by puking up my meal afterwards so the results have yet to be confirmed. So do me a favor: make sure to take a big whiff in that toilet bowl the next time you eat asparagus; Tammy promises you won’t be disappointed.

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