Oh. Christmas Tree.

I always panic the day after Thanksgiving.  In one instant—one tick of the clock—days go from being cozy and lazy, relax while that pot of chili cooks…to SHOP! MAKE LISTS! DECORATE! BAKE! DELIVER! MAIL! BE MERRY! SHOP MORE!  PLAN! INVITE!  CAROL! WRAP! HIDE THINGS!  LOOK PRETTY!  And if I have not bought all my Christmas gifts, plus a tree, and taken my kids to see lights at the Botanical Gardens and Snowflake Lane, plus a matinee of the Nutcracker, and hosted a neighborhood dessert party that ends with local birds draping our Christmas tree with red ribbons and popcorn strings by the end of that day after Thanksgiving…then I panic.

So.  I always panic.

We didn’t do everything on my list, but we did get a tree last weekend.  Here’s Vincenzo, all geared up for our tromp through the “Christmas tree patch,” as Rocco called it.


And then we pan out…


We let him dress himself this day, and here he is, demonstrating the true reason behind my Christmas season panic: I’m afraid I’m going to remember everything on all my 100 lists except something incredibly vital.  Like, you know.  Pants.

Rocco, for his part, was wearing pants.  But he kept telling us these weren’t Christmas trees—they were just ordinary trees.  Then he got distracted by a “school of birds” flying overhead and by trying to get Vincenzo to say “ordament,” not “ordament.”  It’s complicated.


We asked him to smile for a picture and got this:


Everything Rocco does is loud.

Now look at these two boys drinking hot chocolate and try to tell me one of them doesn’t look like he might have some evil tendencies:


For just a few seconds, all the boys were standing next to me so I asked Kevin to get a picture.


Well, two out of three ain’t bad.  (Rocco is standing just to Vincenzo’s right, smiling his loud smile.  You can probably hear it.)  I think Kevin does things like this on purpose so that right from the beginning I can’t have “the perfect Christmas,” so I can just stop obsessing about it already and just have fun.  A lot of pants-less Christmas fun. 

That’s his hope, anyway.

Chicken Pot Pie
Maple yams
Salad with blue cheese, apple, and candied pecans


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