For all you Scrooges

Sometimes, I get caught up in my very own pity party. Army of Dad and I had a spat this morning. The words stung and hit way too close to home. So, I lost my cool. I try not to argue most of the time other than the little snipping and sniping and smartassy things we say to each other. I try to avoid the full-blown arguments. This morning, I didn't do so well. Then, the pity party set in. It's Christmas time, not a time to fight, I kept telling myself. Tears welled up several times, but I try not to cry. It is something I've taught myself over the years. I refuse to do the emotional blackmail anymore. When I finally cry, it is obvious that something is really wrong.

But, I got past it. Gave myself the day off and permission to watch the Cowboys lose, eat cereal for supper and play computer Solitaire all afternoon.

Tonight, as I was catching up on the things I need to do, like work and dishes, I was cruising around to blogs I like to read, but don't get to frequently enough.

Get out your hankies. Even if you're a Scrooge, this one will bring tears to your eyes. If you didn't believe in Santa before, you'll believe in him now. To all those Santa's helpers out there - you do God's work.

Go see what A Storm in Afghanistan had to say about his late wife's visit with Santa.

God love him and his children. I only hope I know half the love in my marriage that he clearly knew with his beloved.