When my Mom hands out gifts to my children she tells me, "You don't get a gift from me. Your gift is Kenneth." (Of course, if she finds a vintage crochet book from 1947, she makes sure it ends up with my name on it. Thanks Mom.)
When I opened it on Christmas morning, tears came to my eyes. It is thrifted, vintage, full of kitchy women's folk art and from her heart to mine. Of course, the part I love most is the inscription in the front, signed with her signature xoxox :).... My Mom was emoticon-ing before social media was even invented.
So, regarding Christmas vacation, here is a little moment the represents pretty much all of the time we spent inside during our stay-cation. Dad aka human playground.
(this clip is a bit too long long, but there is a laughable moment at the end)
If Kenneth were the one and only gift I ever got from now until forever, I'd be okay with that.
But I won't give back the crochet book. Ever.