I do not want to talk about Christmas, I want to talk about what makes us anxious about Christmas.

it makes me kind of nuts. All about what makes each person who they are, and finding the right nonsense to make it happen.

This year, this happened.

Torrie sat down and asked me what we spend on each child. (Not a significant amount).

She burst into tears.

Not tears of joy. Tears of anguish.

She wanted to know why on earth we would ever spend that.

(Again, barely discernible amount.)

She said, “i do not want it. People are thirsty. We will give it to them.”

She will get some things she wants. She will also get her wish.

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