Christmas is over.
New Years has passed.
I have fully consumed one of my two boxes of dark chocolate-covered cherries. Turkey soup is in the freezer.
The tree has been de-decorated, but it's still standing in the living room.
Our family Christmas was at our house this year. Furniture had been slightly rearranged, of course, and the next day I was tidying things up a bit. Noticed that my minimalist nativity scene was askew. (By minimalist, I mean 5 tiny white plaster figures - a baby Jesus, a Mary, and three random males. It was a gift one year, and I've never added to it.) I muttered something about Millhouse messing things up, and then I looked closer.
There was the plaster baby Jesus, manger upended so that he was vertical, gazing out at 4 plaster adults, all lined up in a perfectly straight line in front of him.
Millhouse didn't do that!
So I texted the Punk, asking him if he knew at what point the baby Jesus called a meeting of the other figures. He said he didn't know the details, but it seemed to him that the holy baby wasn't quite satisfied with the gold, frankincense and myrhh, and so he was lecturing them.
"That's why they're all looking down," he said. "They're getting in trouble."
Yep.
Christmas is over.
