The Day After

There is frost on the ground - that's as close as SIR will get to his White Christmas.

Giblet is going through his next growth leap, according to the parenting app his mother relies upon - he's too excited to sleep.

The Warriors lost to the Lakers - Big Cuter is trying to make his peace with the result.

The stock market......... - TBG is trying to forget that his retirement is in danger, trying to focus on the love and the family and, for the most part, doing a good job of it.

The in-laws joined us for dinner, followed by HQ and The Good Place.

There are piles all over the house, piles of presents and candy and science experiments and fairy gardens and winter coats - I'd help if I only knew where she wanted things to go.

FlapJilly received a pink and purple kid's camera - her Elbow Series made us laugh.  Her hair's in a french braid, she's sporting fancy new socks and a multi-colored manicure, and she's quite pleased with the total effect.

We have plans for lunch - with burgers, fried cheese curds (this is Indiana, after all), and milk shakes with extra cherries - and the art museum in the afternoon.  

So, why did I have my first ever mass shooting dream last night?  There were kids, a school, me hiding in a corner under a white blanket, a bad guy asserting his will.

I put on my sweater with the pompoms to brighten my mood.  I played Barbies.  He does not get to ruin my vacation.  No.  He does not.