I've never been one to achieve perfection. I'm always chubbier than I want to be, my house is always messier than I'd like, and the list of character-qualities I'm working on is always longer than the ones I've mastered.
So Christmas at our house was never going to be the magazine photo-op I always envision but fall short of.
We had already done a turkey last week when mom and dad were here, so today we threw tradition to the wind and just made exactly what we wanted.
We made stuffing because we love it, and grilled cheese sandwiches, and tomato soup. And we ate it by candlelight. The kids were entranced by the candles and actually ate their supper without anyone crying. Kachi distributed kisses and Sam resisted the urge to touch the flames and Vava only fell off her chair once. There was happy conversation and more than one I love you.
Kachi thanked God for supper sincerely and enthusiastically. Our hearts were glad and it was perfect.
It wasn't magazine-perfect. It wasn't pinterest-perfect. It wasn't even picture-perfect.
But it was just perfect.
Whatever yours looks like, I'm wishing you that kind of a perfect Christmas, friends.