After all that debate we forgot to leave out milk and cookies! Thankfully, Santa is a forgiving chap, and he left the Kid a pretty pull-sled just the same.
I couldn't quite decide what the Kid thought of Christmas morning, to tell you the truth. The boxes were a treat, of course. And the little wooden spoon that was found in his stocking delighted him to no end.
He was curious...interested...and generally just happy to have a day with Mom and Dad both at his complete disposal.
Also, the boy loves German Pancakes. We made these baby ones (in a muffin tin)--the Kid couldn't shove them into his mouth quickly enough.
It was so nice here (not even a hint of snow) that we decided to go for a walk in the afternoon. Moe and Sweet Husband ran off their Christmas treats, while I worked mine off by hiking with twenty-five pounds of the Kid on my back.
Then it was home for the Christmas Feast-of-Whatever. Sweet Husband picked his current favorite beer, and the Kid is digging animal crackers these days. Fearing that beer and animal crackers may not make the most pleasing feast, I picked prime rib. For the record, I chose wisely.