Emily is sitting cross legged on my bed, one of my copies of A Christmas Carol open in her lap. She's holding a mug of peppermint tea, and her lips move slightly as she reads. The Christmas lights are reflected in her tortoise shell glasses, and a red velvet ribbon holds her long brown hair in a pony tail. She's wearing red flannel pajamas with feet that should look ridiculous, but on her they're adorable.
Our Christmas dinner was spinach pie and falafel with harira soup, and a fresh imported panettone for dessert. We actually ate at the table tonight, instead of sitting on the bed with trays. I cleaned the table off when I put up the Christmas decorations, Emily laughed that it was possibly the first time she'd seen the table top. Casey sat at her feet all through dinner, waiting to lick the soup bowls. He really likes harira a lot.
After dinner we snuggled under my striped quilt and watched The Polar Express. I love the way she squeezes my hand when she gets excited. During the race toward Flattop Tunnel she threw her arms around my neck and just about jumped into my lap while yelling at the boy on the screen to "Get down! Get down!" When she caught herself she turned beet red, covered her face with the quilt to stifle her laughing, then looked up at me sheepishly and said, "God Jim, I'm such a dork! How can you possibly love me?" Em, it's the easiest thing I've done in longer than I can remember....
In a little while we'll take Casey for his last walk of the evening, then we'll fall asleep together under the quilt, her head resting on my shoulder, her hand resting on my heart. It's been a wonderful Christmas.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Post a Comment