Our Christmas morning looked like a thick fog. Frozen air hanging over our heads as a reminder that winter is here. Watching us and freezing our toes and our noses and our lungs.
Christmas morning looked like an excited baby, confused as to why we were getting into the car still in pajamas; knowing there is something new on the other end of the car ride. Excitement in his eyes. Giggles floating through the air, mingling with the fog, mixing and dancing together over our heads.
Christmas morning looked like a new Radio Flyer tricycle and legs that are just short of reaching the pedals. This however did not stop him from hopping back up onto that seat every 15 minutes to see if he had grown just enough. Knees locked. Toes stretched. Not quite. I'll eat a snack and try again.
Christmas morning looked like an aviator hat for the lover of the movie UP and trucks and wooden train sets. It looked like an over-stimulated one-year-old who lost interest in opening presents and just wanted to play with what was already opened while taking breaks to keeeeeeep stretching his legs to the pedals. And ringing the bell. Because even if the legs can't reach the bell still works every single time.
Christmas morning looked like family, love, happiness. And gratitude. So much gratitude.
Merry Christmas from our family to yours. xo