It’s one thing to have a child. To see him stand on his own feet, walk on his own legs. There, right in front of you, the result of growth and nurture and time, the work of your hands.
And then comes Christmas and home he comes bearing little gifts: A wreath made by pressing wet-with-paint hands in a ring and finished with a bow; a playdough dove, flaky red and shedding glitter. Two sealed gifts on the mantel, one wrapped in Pokemon Christmas paper, the other in a plain envelope decorated in crayon. To: Mom and Dad. Love, Tau.
Merry Christmas to us!