This morning Thad got up and walked into the livingroom. I plug the lights of the tree in before I get the kids up. At the top of my list of sad, dismal things is a dark Christmas tree. If you’re gonna have a tree in the middle of your house, it should be lit.
Anyway–Thad comes into the livingroom, takes a long look at the tree and declares, “Oh, for the ripping of wrapping paper. . .the SWEET SMELL of RIPPING wrapping paper.” (ADDENDUM: He later said, “Mooo-oooo-ooom. It’s the SWEET SOUND of ripping wrapping paper.”)