Miles has been doing a lot of photography lately, and we were putting prints into his photo album.

A:  I like this picture of Tobin, Miles.  It has good focus.  It’s really sharp.

M:  Yeah, some pictures are furry and soft.

Typically, we just put the computer in sleep mode, but last night Denny shut it down entirely.  When Miles tried to use it today, it didn’t respond how he expected.

M:  When I push a button, it doesn’t fall awake!

We were being silly at the dinner table.

M:  I love Daddy this much (holding his hands about two inches apart).

D:  Well, I love Miles this much (holding his arms wide apart).

M:  I love Mommy this much (holding his hands about two inches apart again).

A:  How much do you love Mubby?

M:  This much (two inches again).

A:  How much do you love Tobin?

M:  This much (about six inches).  Actually I love Mommy this much (about twelve inches).

A:  Oh, that’s nice!

M:  (bursting into tears)  No!  I don’t love Mommy!

A:  Do you need a little love?

Still sobbing, Miles nodded, climbed into my lap, and received a thorough snuggling.  That showed me.

In my imaginary world in which I throw glamorous holiday parties, I will serve this:

Rosemary Gin Fizz

In this same imaginary world, I always have a fully-stocked bar and herb garden.  You know, come to think of it, it would be pretty cool if I could put things like that on my wishlists.  I would need lots of different flavors of schnapps and brandy, your basics like vodka and gin and whiskey, and nice mixers like infused syrups, sodas, and fruit juices.  I always see commercials about giving fancy liquor as gifts (lately I’ve been seeing something about an engraved bottle.  What?), but it seems like it would be weird to actually receive such a thing at a family gathering.

Plus we barely drink, and when we do, it’s likely a bottle of wine (which we do happily get and give as gifts sometimes).

This is why it’s a fantasy, people.

On our way out to dinner, we passed a huge evergreen tree covered in lights.  Miles enjoyed looking at it, so on our way home, I pointed it out again.

A:  Miles, there’s that Christmas tree again, this time out your window.

M:  Did somebody move it?