Well, our tree is up. As of a week ago, on day 2 of December. We ritualistically adored each ornament before placing it on the tree and loved on everything x a thousand again. Have i mentioned we love our tree and ornaments? But really, it is pretty perfect. I mean look at it. Sure it's small, but I like it up and off the ground. And the star askew and the stockings and the reflections in the mirrors. It's the perfect Christmas corner.
To pay special tribute, I've asked Sean to write something about his thoughts, on anything really. The tree or otherwise. Take it away, Sean:
THANK YOU, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. It's an honor to be given this chance to be a guest writer on Jenslog. One never knows when another opportunity like this might arise, so I want to take advantage of this chance to address the world. Here goes: One week ago today I was in the car, accompanied by my son, and as I executed a particularly perfect right-hand turn, I checked my blind spot for approaching pedestrians. During this fleeting check, I witnessed a 4-ish year old boy standing at the edge of the road leaning forward, with his mother's arm gently resting across his shoulders, puking his guts out. It was apparently an intense moment for him, and it was an intense moment for me, the startled witness. My experience of the scene couldn't have lasted more than a half second, since I had to complete my perfectly executed right-hand turn, and resume my responsibility for the well-being of my passenger and vehicle, remain on course to our mutual destination, and abide by the applicable traffic laws and driving norms, but the half second has stuck with me for a full week now. I feel like I can recall it in every detail. Funny. What if my experience of every split-second of my life were that intense and memorable? What would that be like? By the way, Jen asked if I was grossed out, and no, I was not.
I... don't know what to say. I'm really at a loss here. I guess we'll just leave it at that and hope you have a jolly Monday.