Every year I look forward with great anticipation to the erecting of the annual Christmas village. Painstakingly, I unwrap each piece and gingerly place it where it belongs. I’ve given each child explicit instructions not to touch the village, lest Santa Claus will bypass our house on Christmas Eve.
No one in our home believes in Santa, by the way, but this is my warped way of keeping the spirit of Santa alive and well.
As I finished putting the final touches on my village, I stood back with admiration. The children did the same.
The next morning I came into the family room and flipped on the village lights. This is what greeted me.
It was bad enough that the manger scene was sullied. Now this.
Nothing is sacred.
Have a fantastic weekend, everyone.