One of our gifts was a sample pack of coffee that included House Vienna blend. “Does that come with those little sausages?” he quipped.
Santa gave each of us a “Life is Good” shirt, with a request that we take a group photo wearing our shirts. Three of us were ready to go for our photo shoot, but Junior was not wearing his. Why? “I can’t wear a shirt that says life is good,” he says, “my life is great!”
And in the perhaps-you-had-to-be-here category… I had fed the pups shortly before Trisha and Junior arrived Christmas night. When they got here we exchanged hugs and hellos and then he said, “Where are those puppies?” I escorted him to my office where the little ones were in their box. He picked one up and was carrying it around when it pooped on him. “Whoa!” he laughed, and she pooped again. We outfitted him with a towel to prevent further wardrobe casualties, and though he avoided further soiling the puppies were just getting going. When it came time to head to bed it was also time for the wee ones to have another feeding. Junior and Trisha offered to take the feeding so that I could go to bed, an offer I welcomed. Trisha and I got clean papers and a towel to put into the puppies’ box while Junior went to heat the bottles. A moment later we heard him in the doorway and turned to discover that he had learned a lesson earlier about pooping puppies: he stood there with bottles in each hand wearing nothing but an apron and a mischievous grin. (Photo is a reenactment)
And then there's this--his favorite Christmas present? Not the hunting paraphernalia, the rockin' clothes, the cash or even the gift from Ema. His favorite gift was this ornament.
What takes the prize for this holiday, however, was a moment at the Opry Saturday night. There's a song by Rodney Atkins than Junior claims is his song for Ken. It's a wonderful song about a young boy who imitates his father and wants to grow up to be just like him. During the early part of the show I was thinking that it would be nice if there were a song that could somehow capture the special "mother-son" relationship that he and I have. Heck, I thought, I might even have to write my own song since it is a pretty rare thing to hear about. Well, I didn't have to wait long to be proven wrong. A family bluegrass group called Cherryholmes performed a song called "This is my Son." Half way through the song the tears were rolling down my face, and I reached across the back of the seats to touch Junior's shoulder. When the song ended I turned to look at him and he said, "I love you."
Here's the song.