Christmas is Coming

Actual conversation between me, my 7-year-old son, and my 4-year-old daughter this morning in my bathrom while I was shaving:

Daughter: Christmas is coming! I can't wait.

Me: I know, it will be great!

Son: We need to remember to leave some cookies and milk for Santa.

Daughter: And maybe some Gatorade.

Me: Yes, he has a long night of flying around. Gatorade might help him.

Son: No, it should be milk.

Daughter: We should leave a present for Santa, too! He might not get too many gifts.

Son: Good idea.

Me: I'll bet Santa could use a wrist-mounted GPS system, so he can tell how high he is flying, how far he has gone, and so that he doesn't get lost.

Daughter: (blank stare)

Son: Umm...no, Dad.

Me: He probably would like one, though.

Son: Whatever we give him, we should leave it in its original box. That way if he doesn't want it, he can just leave it at some other kid's house later on.

Daughter: Good idea. (To her brother) Want to watch Dora now?

Son: Sure. Bye, Dad.

Daughter: Bye, Dad.

So I probably won't be getting a GPS. On the plus side, I did a 90-minute trail run this morning without any real soreness from my nagging injuries. And it ws 32 degrees outside, making this the first day of hat-wearing in these parts. The days are finally getting colder.

And Christmas is coming. I can't wait.