The Grinch's Small Heart Grew Three Sizes That Day

I believe my lack of Christmas spirit has metamorphosed into a deep hatred for my fellow man.

I hate sitting still in traffic for ten minutes in order to go anywhere, watching all the idiots who do not know where they're going aimlessly changes lanes or sit through green lights.

I hate being such a procrastinator that I wait until the absolute last moment to do anything, be it mailing Christmas cards (just did it today), decorating the Christmas tree (still only lights; maybe next Christmas), or buying presents (got the kids taken care of but that's about it).

I hate standing in line with my fellow procrastinators at the post office.

I hate dragging the kids out into the cold weather to go to Target and being unable to find a parking spot in the same zip code.

I hate walking through Target with a screaming infant and a toddler who wants to run off and touch and grab everything she sees.

I hate hearing people say, "Looks like Mom got the day off today."

I hate jumping down these people's throats, telling them, "Mom's at work! And so am I! This is what I do! Am I not allowed to have a bad day? Bite me, Miss Perfect!"

I hate checking my mail and finding Christmas cards from people I forgot to send cards to.

And then I look at the following picture and all the hatred and animosity washes away. I see my beautiful children's smiling faces and everything is right with the world. I am filled with great joy knowing how fortunate I am to be able to stay at home with these two and experience everything with them.

[The photo was here. Sorry. My paranoia got the best of me.]

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
-- Chag, Ella, Zoey, and Zed