|Dreaming of a White Christmas|
Remember mix tapes? I used to make them all the time when I was a kid. When I created a new masterpiece, I took a ball point pen and poked out the little plastic tab on the side of the tape to make my creation permanent.
One Christmas when I was little, my grandparents gave our family the gift of a tape player and a tape of Christmas songs. It was, apparently, recorded at home in some lady's basement. We could tell. Along with the novice production, the singing was not much better. The lady had a warbly and at times screechy voice.
I hope you had a Merry Christmas! By now the gifts are unwrapped and maybe, just maybe some of them weren't perfect. In our house, the basketball socks we ordered for Jack were too small. Aunt Julie's hot chocolate mix exploded in the package during shipping, covering everything in a film of cocoa. I watched the kids open their gifts--beautiful handknit hats--and couldn't help but laugh that they smelled delicious too.